


Something Tragic About You

by spontaneoussquirrel17



Series: Lover Come Over [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, BAMF Sarah Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Smokes Marijuana, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Canonical Character Death, Casual Sex, Catholic Guilt, Catholic Steve Rogers, Cigarettes, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Codependency, Comfort Sex, Cutting, Deaf Clint Barton, Depressed Steve Rogers, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Executive Function Issues, Existential Angst, Heavy Angst, Intervention, Isolation, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Loss of Faith, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Mild Daddy Kink, Minor Character Death, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Bucky Barnes, Recovery, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Self-Harm, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Self-Harms, Stoned Sex, Therapist Sam Wilson, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-23 23:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spontaneoussquirrel17/pseuds/spontaneoussquirrel17
Summary: Steve Rogers is finally forced to confront his issues.Triggers specific to each chapter will be included in that chapter's beginning notes.  Please feel free to skip chapters.Work title is from "From Eden" by Hozier.





	1. Swinging From the Fire Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Peter Parker meets his heroes.
> 
> No triggers, no porn, just some cute plot.
> 
> Chapter title from "Fire Escape" by Andrew McMahon.

Peter was out on his usual Saturday night patrol.It was past midnight now.It had been a quiet night— so far, all he’d done was bust up two attempted robberies and a handful of drug deals.Perhaps the cold was keeping people in.He was sitting on the roof of a building doing his homework when he heard it: two grown men _giggling_.

Peter sighed.Adult men giggling wasn’t usually a good sign.It wasn’t exactly bad, either, but that was because they usually didn’t have the coordination to do much.He shut his laptop, stashed, it, and leaned over the side of the building to look.

A large, bulky man was climbing out of a window to a top-floor apartment.He jumped onto the fire escape a floor below, a lot lighter on his feet than Peter would have expected for his size.The man’s whisper carried to his enhanced ears: “Hurry up, babe, we haven’t got all night!”

Peter was sure no one else could have heard it— the man had been much too quiet for his accomplice to hear.And yet, a whispered reply came from the still-open window: “Hold your horses, punk.Clint’s more skilled with traps than I gave him credit for— aha!Got it!”A shorter man, equally broad and built, emerged from the window and carefully shut it before dropping down to join his friend.

Peter took this as his cue and sprang into action.He shot his webs at them, sticking them to the fire escape as he jumped down to meet them.Peter found himself silently thanking Mr. Stark for giving him such accurate web shooters.He was positive these guys could wipe the floor with him. 

He landed on his toes and straightened up.“So, you think breaking and entering is cool?” he asked.Peter realized with horror that he had accidentally mimicked the old Captain America movie series they forced them to watch in school, down to the tone of voice and vaguely disappointed attitude.He was extremely thankful for the mask so the perps couldn’t see him blush.

And yet— the taller man _laughed_.“Buck, I think we just got detention!” he howled.“Oh man, I didn’t know they were still _showing_ those things.”

“Wait— that from that video series you showed me?” the man called Buck asked.“Where you had to talk about, like, saying no to pot and sex and all that other shit you do all the time like a fuckin’ hypocrite?”

“That’s the one!” the other man said, still laughing.His teeth were so white they gleamed in the dim, orangey glow from the streetlight down below.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_!” Buck exclaimed, and then he was laughing harder than the taller man.

Peter was annoyed.“Guys, I’m serious, theft isn’t funny.You gotta return whatever you took or I’ll- I’ll have to call the police,” he finished lamely.This was going horribly.Maybe Mr. Stark had been right to worry about whether he was ready for the superhero life.

Buck laughed even harder, but the taller man managed to pull himself together.“Kid, I promise, this isn’t what it looks like.That was our buddy’s apartment.We needed to grab something for him, but we didn’t realize ’til we got here that we didn’t have the key.”

“So you just… broke in,” Peter said skeptically.There was something majorly weird about these guys.

“I toldja, Steve, we shoulda just asked those Russians on the first floor,” Buck said.

Peter could practically hear the other man— Steve?— roll his eyes.“And I told you, Pepper’s got enough of a PR nightmare on her hands with the whole General Ross situation.She doesn’t need us beating up Clint’s Russians for him.”

“Who said anything about beating them up?” Buck muttered.“I was thinking murder.”

Something finally clicked in Peter’s brain.“Wait— you’re Steve Rogers, aren’t you?Captain America!”Peter began bouncing up and down in excitement.“Oh my gosh I can’t believe it- I keep asking Mr. Stark when I get to meet the rest of the team, but he keeps telling me that I’m not on the team yet and if I keep annoying him the answer will be never, so I’ve tried to remember to stop asking and I think it’s going pretty well but—“

Steve sounded puzzled.“Wait— Tony has a kid?He’s never mentioned…” He trailed off.

“Sure runs his mouth like Tony,” Buck offered.

“What?!?No!! Gross!I’m his intern!” Peter screeched.He pulled off his mask and fiddled with a button on his web gauntlet. A soft white glow illuminated their faces.The taller man was definitely Captain America.The shorter man looked familiar as well.“Bucky?Bucky Barnes?” Peter asked, confused.“I thought you were dead!”

“Surprise,” growled Bucky.He struggled for a moment before freeing his left arm.Peter stared at him in shock.

“How did you- no one’s ever-“ Peter sputtered.

Bucky pulled the glove off his metal hand.“Prosthesis,” he said, stretching and flexing his fingers so that Peter could see.Then he proceeded to pull the webbing off of himself carefully.

“ _Wow_ ,” breathed Peter.He was enthralled.“So cool!”

“You sure you’re not a Stark?” Bucky asked skeptically.He had nearly freed himself from the webbing now.

Peter grimaced again.“I mean, I haven’t done a DNA test, but I’m pretty sure no one in my family would have… ugh.”He shuddered.

Bucky pulled completely free and then began to work on Steve.“Wanna lend a hand, kid?” he asked.“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Oh yeah- sorry, I’ll just—“ Peter pushed a button on the other gauntlet, revealing a switchblade.He began to work on cutting the webbing on the side of Steve opposite Bucky.“And I’m Peter Parker, sir,” he added, remembering his manners.

Bucky laughed.“You hear that, Steve?The kid called me ‘sir’! _Peter_ thinks I’m a gentleman!”He finished freeing Steve’s right arm and started working his way down Steve’s torso.

“Clearly doesn’t know ya yet, ya jerk,” Steve quipped at Bucky.To Peter, he asked “How old are ya?Where ya from?”

“16, Queens,” Peter muttered.Even with the knife he was a bit slower going than Bucky, in part because he was terrified of stabbing Captain America.How was this his life.

Steve flexed his fingers and shook his arm, then started to help try and loosen the webbing.“What the _hell_ is this stuff made of,” Bucky grumbled.

“Spider silk, sir,” Peter said, distracted.He was in close physical proximity to _Captain America_ and the legendary _Sergeant Barnes_.He had to keep periodically reminding himself to breathe.

“Spider silk?” Steve repeated, incredulous.“What happened to you, kid?”

Peter decided it would be best to stop helping, as they were getting to the webbing that was wrapped around Steve’s narrow hips.“I was bitten by a radioactive spider,” he said as he wiped his switchblade clean on his suit.“Now I can shoot spider webbing and be all fast and flexible and shi- stuff, sir.”Peter blushed.He’d almost sworn in front of Captain America.

“Which is why Tony’s mentoring you,” Steve finished.He sounded a little tense.Bucky’s lips thinned.

“Yeah,” Peter said.“I wanna be an Avenger!I can help people now, I wanna do my part!”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance.“How do your parents feel about this?” Steve asked casually.

“Oh, they’re dead, so they can’t stop me, and what Aunt May doesn’t know won’t kill her,” Peter answered with a shrug.Steve glared and opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by a look from Bucky.

Bucky finished freeing Steve and then turned to Peter.“Good ta meet ya, kid.Steve?” he said, turning back to Steve.Steve was still looking at Peter strangely.“Steve,” Bucky warned.Steve ignored him and pulled out his phone.

“What’s your number, Parker?” Steve asked as he started a new contact.Peter stammered out his phone number, unable to believe that _Captain America_ had asked for it.“Thanks.I’ll text you,” Steve said.“Ok, Buck, we can go now.”Peter watched them jump down the fire escape, one floor at a time.He hesitated for a moment.Curiosity got the better of him, so he put his mask back on and followed silently.

“… Can’t believe Stark’s groomin’ a kid.A fuckin’ _kid_ , Bucky.He’s 16!”Steve was walking down the sidewalk with an angry strut.

“Yeah, ‘n at 16 you were jumpin’ bullies twice your size in alleyways with less’n an eighth of that kid’s assets,” Peter heard Bucky say as he kept pace with Steve.“Can ya blame Stark for wanting to keep an eye on the kid?”

“He’s not just keepin’ an eye on him,” Steve replied, obviously unhappy.“That suit screamed StarkTech.Tony’s _enabling_.”

“Ya fuckin’ hypocrite,” Bucky retorted.“Whaddya call me for gettin’ your ass outta all those scrapes?I been enablin’ your stupid ass decisions since you were eight years old, punk.”

Steve sighed and softened his posture and pace a bit.“Yeah, butcha weren’t old enough t’know better, Buck.Tony _is_.”

“Howard’s kid is the least responsible member of this team ’n you know it,” Bucky reminded Steve, putting his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“I thought you said I was the most irresponsible,” Steve jokingly complained, grabbing Bucky’s ass.

“Oh yeah, punk?You wanna go there?” Bucky asked, his voice deepening.

“You bet I do,” Steve growled back.Bucky pulled Steve into the nearest alleyway and pushed him up against the wall.Peter prepped himself to intervene in a fight when he realized that Bucky was kissing Steve, not hurting him, and that Steve’s hands were reaching for…

Peter fled.He’d had more than enough for one night.


	2. You're the Perfect Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve have a little fun in the alley... at least until conversation gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of self-harm.
> 
> Chapter title from "Main Attraction" by Jeremy Renner.

“You want me to fuck you right here in this alley?” Bucky growled as he nipped at Steve’s lips and ground his hips into Steve’s groin.He had Steve pushed up against the brick wall of a building, hidden in the shadows.Steve was running his hands over Bucky’s hips, reaching for his ass.

Steve barely contained a moan as he gave Bucky a squeeze.“Please, baby, I need you,” he whispered.“You do things to me Buck— I ain’t never needed somethin’ the way I need you.”

“Oh doll,” Bucky rasped back as he unzipped Steve’s pants and pushed them down to his knees.He knew Steve meant it.He felt the same way.Unfortunately— “We don’t have any lube,” Bucky reminded Steve as he sank to his knees in the alleyway and started to suck, working his tongue around Steve’s shaft.

“I don’t care,” Steve whispered, almost so quiet now that even Bucky had trouble hearing him.“I need you, baby.Daddy needs you.”He looked down at Bucky with those _eyes_ — the ones that convinced men to fight to the death.The ones that were almost enough to convince Bucky to fuck him raw in an alleyway.Almost.

Bucky sucked hard on Steve’s dick, making Steve cum down the back of his throat.Steve moaned and arched against the brick wall with pleasure.Bucky swallowed and began to lick Steve, cleaning him up.“Don’t make me hurt ya, doll,” Bucky pleaded in between strokes from his tongue.“Stevie, daddy,I can’t do anything that’ll- that’d make ya bleed, or hurt, or- I can’t harm ya Stevie, I’m sorry.”Bucky stood back up and looked deep into Steve’s eyes, taking Steve’s head in his hands.“I don’t understand why you want it— haven’t I hurt you enough?”Bucky was blinking back tears now.

“Oh, baby, hush,” Steve crooned, pulling Bucky in for a hug.“You don’t haveta do anything you’re uncomfortable with.Come to that, you don’t haveta do anything you don’t wanna do ever.Period.”

“That’s hard when the thing I wanna do most is take care of ya an’ ya ask for things like this,” Bucky said, nuzzling against Steve’s neck and inhaling his scent.Bucky loved the way Steve smelled.“You still haven’t told me why you want it,” he said, a hint of accusation in his voice.Steve wasn’t quite as good at changing the subject as Bucky was, but he’d learned from a master of avoidance.

“It feels good,” Steve admitted.“It makes me feel—“ Steve fell silent for a moment, clearly searching for the words.If he found them, he didn’t say them.Instead he just sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky whispered sadly, caressing Steve’s face.Then he frowned, his eyebrows knit in concern.“You wouldn’t- you’ve never- hurt yourself on purpose, right, Steve?” he asked awkwardly.He’d recently had a long discussion with Sam about positive versus negative coping mechanisms.Sam had mentioned that sometimes people hurt themselves in an attempt to deal with anxiety, anger, and depression.Maybe Steve was hurting inside more than Bucky had realized.

“No,” said Steve, a little too quickly, loudly, and forcefully.“Never- I would never- Bucky, you haven’t thought about self-harm, have you?Do you need to talk to Sam?I could text him, see if he’s free tomorrow…”Steve had turned it back on Bucky.Neat.

“No, I’m fine,” Bucky assured Steve.“Just worried about you, pal.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, frowning.“You should worry about your recovery, not me.”

“I’m fully capable of worrying about both of us at once,” Bucky said, a little sarcastically.“I been doin’ it for more’n twenty years now.”He reached down and pulled Steve’s pants back up, carefully buttoning them.“Come on, punk, let’s go home and finish this in the bedroom, where I will definitely be using lube,” Bucky said.He grabbed Steve by the shoulders and steered him out of the alleyway before dropping one arm down around Steve’s waist and freeing the other one.He decided to change the subject.“So,” he said conversationally, “whaddya think Clint’s gonna say when he finds out we nicked his Paw Patrol DVDs?”

Steve smirked.“Pretty sure Nat’s gonna be more embarrassed for Clint than Clint’ll be for himself,” he replied.“Now Pepper’s face when she walks in and finds us all stoned out of our minds while watching animated puppies? _That_ I’m excited for,” Steve said.

“You like seeing Pepper angry?You sick sonufabitch,” Bucky gasped with mock-horror.

“Hey now,” Steve warned.“You watch what you say about my ma.”

“Your ma was a saint,” Bucky conceded.“Dunno how she got a punk like you for a kid.”Bucky gave Steve a quick elbow jab to the ribs, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Hey now,” Steve said again, but he was laughing.He gave Bucky a sharp jab with his own elbow.Bucky smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.He was beginning to worry about Steve.They continued to banter all the way back to Avengers Tower.


	3. What Have I Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Steve decides to try casual sex as a coping mechanism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would probably make more sense if you've already read The Miseducation of Steven G. Rogers. I'll collect all of these fics into a series once I think of a name for it. Suggestions for a series name are welcome in the comments.
> 
> No trigger warnings for this chapter, but be advised that Steve is making poor decisions given his personality/relationship with sex.
> 
> Chapter title from "Hurt" as performed by Johnny Cash.

Steve and Clint had spent a pleasant Saturday afternoon at Clint’s apartment on a video call with Kate.Maria was in Europe for a conference and Kate was bored.Steve and Clint were also bored, having been grounded for a mandatory break between missions.Steve hated the mandatory breaks.He went even crazier than normal without having something to do.

“By the way, Steve,” said Kate, “when are you gonna start dating?It’s been six months since you dethawed, and winter in New York is always so romantic…”She looked a little dreamy as she said this.Steve figured she was remembering last winter with Maria.

“I dunno, haven’t really thought about it,” Steve muttered, blushing.

Clint huffed, indignant.“Haven’t thought about it?I’ve been offering to be your wingman since Kate left!”

Steve shrugged helplessly.“Yeah, well…”His eyes begged Kate to stop this line of inquiry.She just smiled innocently.

“Will you look at that, I’ve got a call from Maria coming in.She must’ve just woken up.Toodle-oo!” Kate rushed, a little too brightly, and then hung up.

Clint looked at Steve.“Whaddya say we get you laid tonight, ol’ man?” he asked with a wink.

Steve sighed.“Not tonight, Clint, I’m tired.”

“Bullshit,” Clint said, glaring now.

Steve ignored him and got up from the couch.“It was great to hang, Clint— see ya soon,” and with that he left.He could hear Clint swearing as he walked away.

The truth was, Steve reflected as he walked down the street, that he was afraid and heartbroken.Kate was too young and innocent to understand that six months out of the ice also meant that, for Steve, it had only been six months since he had lost both Peggy and Bucky.Steve was a true romantic at his core.Not in the mushy, romcom sense.He’d always secretly sympathized with Mary Shelley— passionate, creative, misunderstood by society, considered too frail and fragile to truly be capable of her considerable talents.He had sensed from the moment he’d met them each that Peggy and Bucky would be it for him— that they were different; special.Now Bucky was dead and Peggy had dementia, and Steve was alone.

If Steve started dating again, he felt that one of two things would happen.He might find a new soulmate and endure terrible heartache when he inevitably lost them, just like he had with Peggy and Bucky.Or, he might discover that connecting with anyone else the way he needed to was impossible— a different heartbreak, but painful all the same.The latter scenario seemed much more likely to Steve.All the great lovers had only one soulmate.He’d already been lucky enough to have two.Asking for a third was just plain greedy.

Dating didn’t have to be about finding love, Steve supposed.Bucky had dated girls sometimes just for “practice.”Clint didn’t even bother with dates half the time- he just picked people up in bars when he wanted sex.Steve’s cock twitched at the idea.He hadn’t had anyone besides his hand in so long…

Steve’s thoughts had carried him all the way to his apartment.He went in and collapsed on the couch, about to start masturbating, when a thought occurred to him.Casual sex couldn’t be that bad if Bucky and Clint had done it, right?Tony had been an outright lothario and he was a decent guy.Besides, Steve reminded himself, it’s not like he could contract or spread any diseases.If he only had sex with men he wouldn’t even have to worry about getting someone pregnant.Maybe Kate and Clint were right.Maybe it was time to get laid.

Carrying out the idea once it was his own was a lot easier, Steve reflected as he carefully contoured his face.He didn’t want to be easily recognizable.He set his makeup and then carefully spiked up his hair with gel before going to the full-length mirror to assess.He was wearing his skinniest jeans, his tightest t-shirt, and his leather jacket.He thought for a moment and then popped in a set of brown colored contacts.Now he would just be able to claim he was a look-alike.Of course Captain America wouldn’t be picking up guys in a gay bar.Captain America was too _noble_ and _loyal_ for one-night stands.Steve shook himself slightly.He was beginning to wonder if he was developing a split personality.

Steve parked his motorcycle a few blocks away from the Stonewall Inn and walked.He’d chosen the place entirely on name recognition.All fear was gone now— Steve was on a mission.He made his way over to the bar and ordered a soda.The bartender looked at him sympathetically.“Driving?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said casually, leaning on the bar.

“In that case, it’s on the house,” the man told him.

Steve turned pink and looked aghast.“No- I couldn’t possibly-“ he stammered, cutting himself off as the bartender gave him a glare that was somehow reminiscent of his ma.“Thank you,” he said meekly.He sat down on a stool and sipped his soda, watching the crowd.

“You single?” the barman asked, wiping out a glass with a rag.

“Yeah,” Steve answered.“Wouldn’t mind some fun, though,” he added, giving the barman his best James Dean smile.

“I’m married,” he said, holding up the hand that held the rag so that Steve could see the ring.“That guy over there though?”He pointed to the end of the bar, where a dark-haired man was nursing a glass of soda gloomily.“He could use a good fuck.His boyfriend just left him and it was his night to DD too.”

Steve nodded.“Wish me luck, then,” he said to the bartender as he rose off his stool.He walked over to the man at the end of the bar, soda in hand.

He stood back for a minute, assessing.The man was pretty enough.Tan, lightly muscled, slightly on the short side, shock of black hair cut short.Steve figured he could pretend the man was Bucky without too much trouble if it came to that.He finished the walk over and sat down on the stool next to him.

“Hey,” Steve said, deepening his voice a little more than usual.The man next to him didn’t look up; he merely nodded.Steve took a sip of his soda, then said “Looks like we’re both driving tonight, huh.Lucky us.”

The man laughed bitterly at this.“Lucky us,” he echoed, then finally looked up.He did a slight double take and then held out his hand for Steve to shake.“Jim,” he said as Steve took it.

“Chris,” Steve said, unwilling to give Jim his real name.For all he knew Jim cooked meth and shot babies in his spare time.Giving a false name added another layer of protection.“You here with anyone?” he asked, a little too casually.

Jim must have gotten the hint, because a hungry glint came into his eyes.“No,” he said.“You?”

Steve shook his head.“Same.Two single DDs finding each other in a place like this?Definitely lucky us.”He gave Jim the James Dean smile and a wink.

It worked.“I don’t suppose I’m about to get lucky a third time, but you wanna ditch our friends and come over to my place to forget whoever it is you’re trying to forget?” Jim asked.

Steve’s mouth fell open in shock.“It’s obvious?” he asked.

“Oh honey,” Jim said sympathetically.

Steve heaved a sigh to give himself time to come up with a cover story.He couldn’t very well tell Jim that the loves of his life were, well… he decided on just enough truth to be believable.“First guy I ever loved left me.Never even got ta fuck him.I wasted fifteen years pining after that guy, and all I ever got to show for it is a broken heart and a sore hand.”

Jim shook his head sadly.“Beautiful guy like you, never been fucked, such a waste.Come on, honey.Let’s go back to my place so I can show you what you’ve been missing.”

Steve grinned.“Lucky me,” he said.

“Lucky _me_ ,” Jim said back.“Before we go, though— is it gonna be a problem that I’m trans?”

“Hell naw,” Steve replied.“Sex is sex, right?We’ll be fine.Lead the way, Romeo!” he quipped.

Jim’s grin widened even more than Steve thought was physically possible.“Follow me, Juliet!” he quipped back.

People with vaginas were good with their fingers, Steve reflected as Jim expertly massaged his prostate into a third orgasm.Or maybe that was just all queer people.Thankfully, Jim hadn’t thought it weird that Steve was ready to go again immediately after the first orgasm.Instead, he had smiled, said “Good— more fun for us,” and then demanded Steve go down on him.Steve had happily obliged.

They traded orgasms back and forth until dawn.Jim smiled contentedly as the morning sun hit his face.Steve, however, frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked, noting the look.

“I just- hadn’t planned on doing this all night, is all,” Steve replied.

Jim nodded with understanding.“Quickie behind the bar, no strings attached type thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve admitted.

“Well, in that case, I won’t offer you breakfast,” Jim said with a smirk.

Steve smirked back.“Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.

“But I will,” Jim said as he grabbed a pen and paper from his nightstand, scribbled something down, and tore the sheet out of the notebook, “give you my number.”Steve took the piece of paper hesitantly.“I’m not looking for anything serious right now either,” Jim added.“But it can be hard to find a good fuckbuddy.You ever want another go-around just text.No strings attached.”

Steve nodded.“Thanks,” he said, and then began to put on his clothes.He was about to walk out the door when he heard Jim.

“Oh, and Steve?Your secret’s safe with me.But if you’re gonna be picking up people in bars you’re gonna want a better setting spray.Your makeup was completely gone by midnight.Take this.”Jim tossed Steve a purple spray bottle.Steve caught it, waved, and left.He made it all the way out to the street when he froze.

He’d introduced himself as Chris, not Steve.Jim had figured out who he was.Steve swore.He was definitely going to have to be more careful.He made a beeline for the nearest bodega and bought a ball cap, breakfast, and a burner phone.

After a few months a rumor started to make its way through certain circles about a man who seemed to be making it his mission to personally thank as many of the city’s designated drivers as possible.No one could agree on his hair color, eye color, or facial hair (or lack thereof).Some said he had a deep voice and presented as hypermasculine.Others said he dressed in drag and spoke in falsetto.The stories only agreed on four points.The man was very tall— 6 foot 3 or thereabouts.He was incredibly strong, yet surprisingly flexible.His dick was always ready to go, no matter how many people he had already fucked that night.And he always, always fucked with the desperate, feral need of a man trying to forget.


	4. You Can Have it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex! And some angst. And fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of self-harm themes from the previous two chapters- much milder than before, however.
> 
> The author is mildly intoxicated at time of posting and the editing quality therefore corresponds with this.
> 
> Chapter title from "Hurt" as performed by Johnny Cash.

“Alright, doll,” Bucky said as soon as the apartment door shut behind them.“I’m ready to make good on my promise.”He raked his eyes over Steve hungrily.Steve loved it.

He pulled the DVD set out of his sweatshirt pocket before sitting down on the kitchen table and grinning.“What promise is that?” Steve asked, trying to look and sound innocent and failing completely.

“I said I’d fuck ya with lube when we got home, didn’t I?” Bucky said as he grabbed a bottle from its hiding place above the refrigerator.Steve thrilled a bit.He hadn’t been as horny as most boys during puberty— his heart problems made getting and keeping an erection difficult.Once he’d gotten the serum, though— well, that was a different story entirely, and Peggy had been more than happy to oblige as often as was practical.She’d laughed once and told him he was just as bad as a randy teenager.He’d just grinned and told her he was making up for lost time.

Now that he was with Bucky, though, Steve began to wonder if there was something about the serum that increased their hormone levels more than most people’s.One or the other of them was always ready to go.When they were out in public together Bucky’s presence felt like a magnet.The upside was that they somehow fought even better together than they had before.They had always been a matched pair, but now they fought as if they were the same person.The downside was… well, Steve couldn’t actually think of a downside.He grinned as he hopped off the table, pulled down his pants, and bent over.

“You want me right here, right now?Oh Stevie,” Bucky groaned.He kicked off his shoes, socks, and pants and then proceeded to lube his metal fingers.Steve watched, eager with anticipation.He loved feeling the way Bucky’s hard metal fingers warmed inside him after the initial shock of cold.He also loved the unyielding way they pressed on his prostate.

“Bucky baby,” Steve moaned as Bucky traced Steve’s rim with a metal fingertip.

“I’m gonna treat you so good, Stevie,” Bucky said as he slipped his finger in to the first knuckle.He leaned over and kissed the small of Steve’s back, sending a thrill up Steve’s spine.

“Bucky,” he breathed.He wanted all of Bucky as soon as possible.Bucky, however, seemed to be in no hurry.

“You deserve t’ be loved so good, Stevie doll,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s spine where it met his hips.He slid his finger in to the middle knuckle.“I _want_ to take care of you, Stevie.You were on your own for too long.You don’t treat yourself right without your baby here to make you,” Bucky continued.

“Bucky,” Steve whined, annoyed.Bucky obliged and slid the rest of his finger into Steve, then the tip of a second.Steve gave a small sigh of satisfaction.“You’re going so slowly,” he complained, trying to glare back at Bucky but utterly failing.Bucky was so beautiful— his dark hair pulled back into a low pony, his black sweatshirt setting off his still-pale skin, his dark blue eyes shining.Steve could never be mad at him for long.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Steve,” Bucky said seriously, holding eye contact with Steve as he slowly worked his second finger in.“I can’t hurt you.The more I think about what you’re asking, the more I feel- the more I feel like it would be bad for both of us.”His second finger was all the way in now and he was starting on a third.He still hadn’t broken eye contact with Steve.Steve was starting to feel a little embarrassed.

“I can see you blushing, doll, and you don’t have to be ashamed of anything.Ever,” Bucky told him forcefully, jabbing Steve’s prostate in emphasis.Steve moaned.“I wantcha t’ tell me things.I wanna know when you’re hurting, doll, so I can make you feel better.”He began to work his fingers in and out, carefully avoiding Steve’s prostate.

Steve whined.“I need you, Bucky,” he whispered, his voice full of longing.He ached for the feeling of Bucky joining him, filling him up, making him whole.

“I know you do, doll,” Bucky said, sweet and low.“You need me more’n you think you do.”Bucky removed his fingers and Steve gasped.“Don’t worry, Stevie doll.We’re together now.Nothin’s gonna keep me from taking care of you,” Bucky said as he lubed up his dick.“Ready daddy?” he asked, positioning himself so that the tip of his dick was on Steve’s rim.

“Baby, please,” Steve begged.Bucky eased himself in almost painfully slowly.Steve sighed with pleasure when Bucky bottomed out.

Bucky moaned too.He’d clearly been just as eager as Steve.“Yeah, I’ve been wanting you so bad doll, so bad,” he babbled as he started to pump his hips.“But I- it’s so much more important that you’re ok, Stevie.I need you to be ok.Not pretending, not hiding it, really ok,” Bucky said.Steve found himself hanging onto Bucky’s words as tightly as his ass was clinging to Bucky’s dick.

“I need you to take care of yourself, daddy.I need you to take care of yourself so you can take care of me,” Bucky continued, gasping now.“You know I do the same for you, doll.Now do it for me.Please, promise me, daddy,” he begged.

Steve’s eyes were filling with tears.Bucky was never this serious during sex.Hell, Bucky was almost never this serious, period.“I promise, baby,” he whispered.

“Say it again, Stevie,” Bucky whined, thrusting faster.“Say it again for me, Stevie doll.”

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, promise to take care of myself for you, James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve managed to say in between gasps and grunts.Bucky rewarded him by hitting his prostate and Steve howled, overcome with sensation.

“And I, James Buchanan Barnes, promise to take care of myself for you, Steven Grant Rogers— hhaaaaahhhuuhhh,” Bucky yelled as he came.Steve came too, spurting hard all over the underside of the kitchen table.He’d have to remember to clean it tomorrow.They collapsed on the solid oak table, letting it take their weight.

After a moment, Bucky pulled out and swept Steve off his feet and into his arms.Steve laughed and smiled at Bucky.“Like a little dame, aren’cha Stevie,” Bucky teased as he carried Steve into the bedroom.

“Jerk,” Steve whispered as Bucky laid him down on the bed.

“Punk,” Bucky whispered back fondly as he pulled off his shirt and snuggled up to Steve from under the covers.

Steve shimmied out of the rest of his clothing and slipped under the covers himself.He turned so that he was facing Bucky and rested his forehead against Bucky’s.After a pleasant moment, he quietly asked, “Did you mean all that?What you said while we were— well.”He blushed and didn’t finish the sentence.

Bucky cupped Steve’s face tenderly with his flesh hand.“Of course I did.Every bit of it,” he said, staring deeply into Steve’s ice blue eyes.“Take care of yourself or I’ll kill you,” he added seriously.

Steve laughed a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“Same to you,” he said, but it felt wrong.The emotion that Steve wanted behind those words was missing.He felt empty. 

Bucky’s words continued to echo in the hollowness inside Steve as he tried to fall asleep.They replayed themselves over and over in Steve’s brain, cutting and carving away at the emptiness as they carried themselves deep into Steve’s heart, lodging themselves like seedlings ready to grow.


	5. Your Eyes are the Size of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fun little chapter about the team getting drunk/stoned and watching cartoons. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter.
> 
> This chapter worked better from Sam's POV.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Nine in the Afternoon" by Panic! at the Disco.

Sam settled himself comfortably into the huge, squishy couch in the common room.“It was a good idea to do a movie afternoon,” Clint said, snuggling up against Natasha in a large chair that was really only meant for one.Natasha looked like she was accepting this position with all the grace of a cat who didn’t want to admit it liked cuddles.“Who’s turn is it for dinner?” Clint asked, wrapping his arm around Nat’s shoulders now.

“Yours,” Tony said idly as he fiddled with the media player settings.

Clint sighed.“Guess I’d better put a call into Pirelli’s,” he said, pulling Nat’s phone out of her pocket.She gave him a look that plainly said “use your own.”Clint signed back that he didn’t know where it was.She rolled her eyes.

“Better make it a double order,” Bruce said as he walked in carrying two paper bags.

Clint eyed Bruce appraisingly.“Right you are,” he said.He extracted himself from the chair and walked into the far corner of the room to call in the delivery order.

Bruce made his way over to the coffee table and set the bags down.“This one,” he said, indicating the bag to his left, “is for Steve, Bucky, and I.This one,” he said, indicating the bag on his right, “is for the rest of you.”Natasha raised her hand.Bruce sighed.“Yes, Nat, you can use some of ours too, but if you have a bad time it’s your own fault.”

“May I?” Steve asked, reaching for the bag of Hulkbuster from where he and Bucky were sitting on the L-portion of the giant couch.

“Be my guest,” Bruce said, smiling.Steve pulled out the freshly ground leaf and some rolling papers and began to expertly roll joints.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, bemused.“Did I miss the part where I’d joined a group of stoners and Bruce was the supplier?”He was sitting in the middle of the couch, far enough away from Steve and Bucky that he could plausibly ignore it when they accidentally-on-purpose groped each other like a couple of horny teenagers.Sam wasn’t sure if they did this because they were joyously and madly in love or whether they knew it annoyed the others.Really, he reflected, it was probably some of both.

“Clearly,” Bucky said as he passed Steve his lighter.Clint rejoined the group and began to roll a joint from the supplies in the other bag.

“Thanks,” Steve said, lighting the serum-addled-only joint.He inhaled deeply, held his breath for a moment, and then exhaled with a sigh of satisfaction.“Bruce, you’re the best,” he enthused before taking another puff.Bruce just blushed and seated himself on a beanbag cushion next to the couch.Steve passed the joint to Bucky before turning towards Sam.“I can’t blame you for not knowing,” he said kindly.“It’s not like you knew what I was doing on my breaks when we were tag teaming Bucky, and there wasn’t time in Europe, and then when Bucky didn’t need round-the-clock supervision you moved to your own apartment.”

“The fuck I needed round-the-clock supervision,” muttered Bucky as he exhaled his second puff and passed the joint to Bruce.

“Should you be doing that?” Sam asked Bucky pointedly.There was a disturbing lack of medical research about marijuana, especially when combined with the amount of trauma Bucky had been through.

“Part of recovery is doing shit Hydra would hate, right?” Bucky growled defensively.

“Well, yeah,” Sam admitted.

Bucky nodded as if Sam had just proved his point for him.For his own benefit, though, he said aloud what he was thinking.“Pretty sure they’d shit themselves senseless if they could see me getting stoned with my boyfriend while watching shitty cartoons.”He snaked his hand under Steve’s butt and squeezed.

“Hey!” Steve jumped and blushed.He looked so cute when he was trying to glare but secretly pleased with Bucky’s bad behavior.It reminded Sam a little of him and Riley.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky said with a wicked grin.“You know I get handsy when I’ve had a toke.”

“You had two puffs,” Steve grumbled, but he leaned farther into Bucky as he accepted the joint from Bruce.On the other end of the home theater setup Clint was sitting on Natasha’s lap and holding the joint out to Sam.

Sam shook his head.“I’ll pass tonight,” he said.“Someone’s gotta make sure y’all don’t wreck the place.”More like he couldn’t quite shake what his mama had instilled in him from an early age— anything that was illegal for whites was twice as illegal for blacks, and he was never gonna make it in the military if he had a criminal record.It had kept Sam on the— well, not straight, but definitely narrow, and had probably saved his life on more than one occasion.Sam’s version of rebellious, foolhardy behavior had been becoming a Falcon.

Clint shrugged.“Tony?” he asked, holding the joint out.Tony was busy inserting a DVD into the slot.He waved back at Clint with one hand.

“You know Pepper hates it,” Tony said.He started fiddling with the buttons, trying to get past the previews and to the main menu.“I come to bed smelling like that she’s gonna burn me out.I’ll stick with this instead.”He grabbed the fifth of Jack that had been sitting next to the DVD player, uncapped it, and took a swig.

“Y’all are gonna die,” Sam muttered, simultaneously impressed and horrified.

Clint blew out neat smoke rings.“Why d’ya think we’re doing this?When a person faces their own mortality as much as we do, we find ways to cope.”

“Or lack thereof,” Steve said from across the room.Faces turned towards him.“I mean, Bucky and I haven’t aged.We have to consider the possibility that we might not die.At the very least, we’ll outlive you all.”He shrugged nonchalantly, but his mouth and eyebrows were carefully neutral.He looked down slightly as he glanced at Bucky.Bucky’s own face was carefully neutral as well.He simply nodded at Steve.

“Here we go,” Tony said as the DVD menu screen mercifully interrupted everyone.

“Paw Patrol!” Clint squealed, gleefully bouncing up and down on Natasha’s lap.She glared at him and he stopped.“Tony, I didn’t know you liked it too!”

“Never seen it,” Tony replied.

“We stole it from your apartment,” Bucky said helpfully.Sam groaned.

“Feel free to grab a bottle of whatever you like from the bar, bird-man,” Tony said to Sam as he sat down next to him on the couch.An animated dog barked.

“You know what?That’s a really good idea.Fuck being the responsible, sober one when y’all are putting me through shitty cartoons and existential crises.”Sam got up as he said this and walked over to the bar, where he grabbed the first full bottle he found.He went back over to the couch and sat back down between Tony and BuckySteve, uncapped it, and took a large swig that ended in a coughing fit.Sam looked at the label and groaned.“Tequila,” he informed the room.

“Dunh-da-da-da-da-da-dah,” Tony sang, then giggled and took a gulp of whiskey.

“I hate you all,” Sam muttered before turning back to the screen.

Pepper walked in an hour and a half later with a cart full of pizza boxes and immediately had a coughing fit.Tony paused the episode they were on and seven guilty faces turned to look at her.She glared, hands on her hips.

It was quite a scene.Clint and Nat were comfortably tangled together, sipping seltzer water.Tony and Sam were halfway through their bottles of liquor and were seated with their arms around each other in the comfortable manner of drunk bros.Bruce had been laying on the floor with his own joint; he had given up trying to share with Steve and Bucky, who had become too absorbed in each other to share.At Pepper’s entrance Bruce propped himself up on his elbows so that he could look at her.Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky were apparently attempting to see whether they could fuse into one being and smoke one joint at the same time.Steve was holding it in his mouth.He had also been holding his breath; he exhaled directly into Bucky’s face.Bucky inhaled the cloud of smoke from Steve’s mouth.

“Pizza break,” Pepper said, thin-lipped and tense.

Tony got up from the couch, wobbling only a little.He went to the bar, carefully selected a full bottle of citrus-flavored vodka, and walked over to where Pepper was standing.He held it out to her and hopefully asked, “Drink?”

For a minute Pepper seemed likely to explode.Then she sighed and grabbed the bottle from Tony.She opened it and proceeded to drink for an uncomfortably long period of time.When she finally came up for air a third of the bottle was gone.

“That’s my girl!” Tony cheered, bouncing up and down before attacking her with a hug.

“You are all literally driving me to drink,” Pepper complained, but she was smiling now.It was rare to see her so relaxed.

“You love us,” Tony scoffed.He grabbed a box of pizza and yelled, “Dibs!”Pepper laughed.

Tony and Pepper left once their bottles were more than half empty and their box of pizza was completely empty.Bruce left shortly after they did.“Have fun,” he said as he waved goodbye.

“We will,” Clint giggled.“Look, Tasha!” he said excitedly, pointing at one of the dogs on the screen.

“I see, Hawkling,” Nat told him with a lazy smile.

“You know, babe,” Steve murmured.“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered.He snagged another one of the joints Steve had rolled earlier as they worked out which body parts they could keep wrapped together and still walk.

Sam sighed and drank deeply from his bottle of tequila.He was dimly aware that the fact that it no longer tasted like anything was a bad sign, but it was too late to worry about it now.He kept Clint and Nat company until he finally passed out on the couch.


	6. Riding High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have sex while stoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, like, entirely porn. It's the breather before the angst.
> 
> No TWs.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Main Attraction" by Jeremy Renner.

Steve sank to his knees the moment he and Bucky entered the elevator and pulled down Bucky’s sweatpants.Bucky’s erect penis popped out, blue veins prominent against the deep reddish-tan skin.A bead of silvery cum was forming on the tip.Steve giggled.

“What,” Bucky drawled, irritated that Steve was so close to his erection and not doing anything besides staring.

“It’s just- even your dick is red, white, and blue, baby.You just can’t help showin’ off how much ya love your boyfriend.”Steve grinned and took Bucky into his mouth, gazing up lovingly through slitted eyes.

“Only you get to see that, doll,” Bucky cooed, punctuated by groans and sighs as Steve worked his dick with his teeth and tongue.“Only you get to see what a slut I am for you- oh _Steve_!”Bucky came in Steve’s mouth, hand gripping Steve’s hair.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS interrupted, “This is your floor.”

Steve turned bright red.“Oh- thanks,” he muttered, rising up from the elevator floor.He and Bucky exited the elevator and made their way to their apartment.Bucky didn’t even bother to pull his sweatpants up- he walked slowly behind Steve, sweatpants around his knees, one hand kneading Steve’s ass.As soon as they were in the apartment they dropped their clothes by the door.Bucky pulled Steve down onto the carpeted entry with him and began to cover Steve in kisses.

“Oh Stevie, you feel so good,” Bucky whispered, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Oh baby,” Steve whispered back, soft and dark.“You’re such a good little slut for daddy, begging for it, giving daddy exactly what he needs.”Steve’s voice was deep and dangerous.He ran his hands all over Bucky, caressing softly in the less sensitive spots and pressing firmly in all the places that he knew made Bucky scream.He was not disappointed.

“Stevie, please,” Bucky begged, high and needy.

“Of course, baby,” Steve said.He got up and quickly grabbed the lube, then rejoined Bucky on the floor.He slicked up his fingers and began to work Bucky’s ass.“I’ll always give you what you need,” Steve reassured him.He went carefully, opening Bucky up as fast as he dared.Finally, when Bucky’s face was visibly relaxed and a smile was on his lips, Steve slipped his dick in as he pulled his fingers out.

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky moaned, pleased that Steve was finally inside him.He began to cover every inch of Steve that he could reach in kisses.

“Bucky,” Steve sighed back, feeling that he was finally home.“I needed this, I needed you, I belong in you…”

“Yeah, ya do,” Bucky whispered.“You’re my home, punk.Everythin’ feels right when I’m with you, Stevie.”He gasped as Steve began to roll his hips, giving tiny thrusts and matching kisses.“Oh Stevie, I’d wanted this for so long, but everyone’d said it was dirty, and you were so sweet, Stevie, such a good Catholic, I didn’t wanna ruin you…”

Steve began to deepen his thrusts.“A good Catholic _boy_ ,” he corrected.“You know better’n anyone how I felt about God after Ma died.”

Bucky paused his kisses and glared at Steve.“You bring your ma up during sex again and I’m gonna castrate you with my teeth,” he growled.“I wanna be thinking about your pretty blonde hair and tits, not your ma’s.”Steve laughed and shook his head over Bucky’s chest, tickling him with his soft blonde strands.Bucky moaned at the sensation.“Oh Stevie, how does this feel even more when we’re like this?I already feel so good I could die when we’re fucking, but this is just so…”

“Much,” Steve finished for him.His eyes were closed now and his head tilted up, ready to fill Bucky with hot, wet cum.Steve moaned as he came, his lips a perfect o and the tension behind his eyes completely gone.Bucky finished thrusting for Steve, working his hips through an orgasm that felt as though it was rolling slowly over Steve’s entire body.They felt so connected at that moment that Bucky almost thought Steve’s orgasm was his own.It was bliss.

Steve and Bucky both hated the moment of separation, so Steve simply lay down on Bucky and nuzzled his face against Bucky’s neck.Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and started to trace patterns down his back.They sighed contentedly in unison.

After a few minutes, Steve sighed again.“Bucky?” he whispered, his voice soft.

“Yeah?” Bucky answered lazily, abandoning his traced designs for the simple pleasure of holding Steve.

“I'm glad I’m not facing forever without you, Buck.I don’t think I could handle it.”Steve nuzzled even closer to Bucky as he said this.His lips moved against Bucky’s neck as they formed the words.Steve tasted Bucky’s sweat, mingled with his own.

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky said softly, betraying an ache that Steve couldn’t quite place.“I’m with ya ’til the end of the line, pal.”His grip on Steve tightened.

“Oh, Bucky,” Steve sighed.He was so much luckier than he thought he deserved.Despite his lack of faith, Steve found himself silently praying that this would never end.


	7. Just Give Me Something to Believe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Scenes from Steve's 20th century life give background on Steve's 21st century issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Description of Sarah Rogers' death.
> 
> Discussion of chronic childhood illness as trauma in the end notes.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Something to Believe In" by Young the Giant.

Steve’s first memory was from when he was about three years old.He was in a hospital bed that was much too big for him.His ma sat in a wooden chair next to the bed holding his hand.One of the nurses had just told Steve’s ma that he might not make it through the night.Sarah Rogers was in tears.“What’s that mean, Ma?” Steve asked between wracking coughs. 

The nurse answered before Sarah could speak.“You might die, child.Best say your prayers extra well tonight.”Steve wasn’t sure what that meant, but he saw the fear in his ma’s eyes and knew it wasn’t good.He gave his ma’s hand a squeeze.She smiled at him through her tears.

Steve was four years old.He was in a different hospital bed, with a different nurse, but the same cough.Sarah Rogers once again sat in a wooden chair next to him, holding his hand and crying.The nurse had told Sarah he might not make it through the night.“Guess I should pray extra hard again, huh,” Steve rasped in his childish voice, pausing between words to catch his breath.He squeezed his ma’s hand.Sarah cried harder.Steve felt confused.Shouldn’t that have been a comfort?He’d try harder next time.He hated to see his ma cry.

Steve was five years old.“Will I make it through the night?” he asked the nurse in between coughs.This one was accompanied by a high “whooping” sound.Sarah Rogers held onto Steve’s hand tightly as he asked the question from where she sat in the wooden chair next to his hospital bed.

“Lord knows, with you,” the nurse replied.“Sure you’ve seen many more nights ’n we ever thought possible, Steven Grant Rogers.”

Steve nodded seriously, meeting his ma’s steely gaze.“Let’s be sure to pray then, Ma,” he said to her.He squeezed her hand.This time she did not cry.

Steve was six years old.He loved school, but was often too sick to go.Ma had to work now, so he stayed in bed, finishing his homework and reading adventure stories.Sometimes he drew scenes from the books he read.His ma pinned them up all around their small apartment.“Such talent,” she would say proudly.“It’s all from your Da’s side, you know.”Steve nodded, proud.He’d never met his Da, but Steve couldn’t wait to see him in heaven.He wondered if he’d be able to show his Da his artwork when he got there.

Steve was seven years old and the smallest boy in class.One day, when Steve came back from school with scrapes on his knees and elbows, his ma sighed with exasperation and set down her knitting.“Oh, Steve,” she’d said.“Since your Da ain’t here to teach you how to fight, I’ll have to do.”Sarah Rogers taught Steve how to fight like a girl; how to use his small frame and quick movements to his advantage.Steve came home from school with fewer cuts and bruises after that.

Steve was eight years old and he was cornered, blood spurting from his nose.The kid he was trying to beat up was easily twice his size, but he’d tried to steal Steve’s lunch money, plus the extra penny he was saving for the collection box.Steve was gonna be damned before he let that bully take God’s money let alone his own.

“Hey,” came a voice from the entry to the alley.It was a dark haired, slightly tanned boy who had to be around Steve’s age.“Pick on someone yer own size, why dontcha?” 

The bully leered at the new boy.Apparently, the new boy didn’t like this, because he responded with a right hook to the bully’s jaw and a jab to his abdomen.Steve helpfully came up on the bully from behind and kneed him in the nuts.

Later, Steve would say to the dark-haired boy that he had the bully on the ropes.He could take care of himself.“Sure ya can,” the boy had laughed.“Name’s Bucky.Bucky Barnes.”He stuck out his hand and Steve took it.

Steve was ten years old.“You fight like a girl, ya Mick,” a boy called Danny Black taunted at Steve.

“Yeah, ‘cause my ma taught me,” Steve sassed back, kneeing Danny in the groin.The boy deserved it.The names he got called for being Irish-Catholic never bothered him much, but the names Danny had been calling the Barnes family for being Jewish…

Bucky punched Danny in the face.“Serve you right, talkin’ ‘bout the Rogers like that,” he snarled.

“Boys!” yelled Mrs. Barnes from several floors up.“What’ve I told you about fighting?”

“Sorry, Ma,” Bucky and Steve called up in guilty unison.

Steve was twelve years old.Bucky was thirteen now.He tried to swagger when he walked.He stole his pop’s cigarettes.On days when Steve was too sick to go to school he’d skip and stay home with him.Bucky was ahead in math and science, while Steve was ahead in reading, writing, and history.They would help each other whenever the other got stuck.Steve would jokingly tell Bucky that they were two halves of a whole idiot when this happened.“Speak for yourself, punk,” Bucky’d say, gently elbowing Steve so as not to set off another round of coughing.

“Jerk,” Steve always replied and coughed anyway.

Steve was sixteen.Bucky played football and baseball and wrestled after school.Sometimes he took girls on dates.He’d stay at Steve’s house on the weekends so Steve wouldn’t be alone while his ma worked at the hospital.They stayed up late into the night, talking about girls and science, literature and art, religion and politics, philosophy and baseball.They figured out how to masturbate together, although Steve’s heart had trouble cooperating.“Maybe your science will figure out how ta gimme a new heart some day,” Steve said.

“More like maybe science’ll figure out how ta give you a body that fits that personality of yours,” Bucky quipped back.“Ya got too much spit and vinegar ta fit in that tiny body, pal.”Steve just growled and punched Bucky in the arm.Bucky laughed.

Steve was eighteen.He sat in a hard wooden chair next to his ma’s bedside while the doctor examined her.Steve held onto his ma’s hand tightly.Sarah Rogers was barely conscious, worn out from years of hard work and the slow, painful destruction of her lungs.Every exhale was accompanied by a death rattle.She looked much older than her 38 years.

“What’s the prognosis, doc?” Bucky asked from the doorway.He knew it was the one question Steve couldn’t ask.

The doctor shook his head.“It won’t be long now— any minute, really.I still don’t see why a woman with her intelligence and sense hid her symptoms for so long.We might’ve had a chance of saving her if she’d gone to the sanitorium.”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, not daring to say what they really thought.That Sarah had known the sanitorium would actually be a death sentence.That Sarah Rogers would rather die than stop her work caring for others.That she had requested a transfer to the ward for those who were dying as soon as she recognized her symptoms for what they were in an effort to continue working while minimizing the spread of disease.That the only people she had entrusted with her secret besides Steve were the Barnes family, because she knew they would move heaven and earth to take care of Steve once she was gone.

“Well,” Steve said slowly, forcing the familiar words out of his mouth, “guess we’d better pray extra hard tonight, huh, ma.”He gave his ma’s hand a tight squeeze.Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt her attempt to squeeze back.

Tears were welling up in Bucky’s eyes, too.Sarah Rogers had taken him under her wing the same way the Barnes family had taken in Steve.“It’s ok, Ma,” Bucky whispered, barely audible.“I’ll take care of him.You can rest now.”

Steve felt his ma’s hand relax in his, almost as if she had heard what Bucky had said and was taking it to heart.With one last rattle she was gone.

Steve was eighteen.Steve made sure there was a good Catholic Mass for Sarah Rogers.She may have been buried in a pauper’s grave, but Steve had done everything he could to ensure she’d had every rite in the Good Book.It was what she deserved.Steve even stayed long after the interment to watch his mother’s casket be covered completely in the dust she was returning to.As he watched the dirt slowly cover her plain wooden box he felt anger rise within him.Sarah Rogers had prayed for herself, her family, and the world every single day.She had endured more than most and done it all with a smile and a kind word.She had been an angel on earth.And God had made her suffer and die young anyway.

As Steve left the graveyard he vowed never to step foot in a church or synagogue again.

Bucky had understood Steve’s choice, though he also let Steve know he disagreed with it.Bucky had found it a bit awkward explaining to his ma why Steve didn’t come for holidays anymore, but he succeeded in convincing her not to pressure Steve too much.Steve was thankful for this.As much as he loved spending the Jewish holy days with the Barnes family, he couldn’t in conscience celebrate and honor a god he no longer believed in.Prayers felt like poison in his mouth.

Steve was twenty, and Bucky was drunk.“Steve,” he whispered, smelling of cheap wine and cigarettes and— cum?“Steve, wake up!”

“Whassamatta,” Steve moaned into his pillow.

“Mary O’Connell went all the way with me tonight!” Bucky crowed.Steve blinked at Bucky owlishly, not sure he’d heard right.Bucky frowned.“Steve?”

“Ya shouldn’t- ya shouldn’t kiss ’n tell, Buck, it’s not gentleman-like,” Steve told Bucky.

Bucky stripped to his underwear and climbed into the tiny bed he and Steve shared in their tiny apartment.“Yeah, but it’s _you_ , Steve,” Bucky said.“You’re not just anyone.An’ the way the docs talk aboutcha, like you could die any day… Well, Stevie, dontcha wanna hear about what it’s like at least?You can even masturbate, Stevie, I won’t mind, I won’t tell…”

So Bucky told Steve all about what it was like to lose his virginity to Mary O’Connell and Steve followed along, stroking his dick, imagining that his hand belonged to a pretty, slightly tanned girl with a boyish figure, sensible fingernails, and short, soft black hair.

Steve was twenty-four, and he had pneumonia again, and Bucky was shipping off to basic training the next day.Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, was receiving instructions from Bucky for taking care of Steve.“Don’t be such a mother hen,” Steve snapped, annoyed as Bucky explained the intricate meal schedule he’d devised for maximum food intake with minimum vomiting for the fourth time.

Bucky just looked at Steve like he’d said something stupid.“Punk,” he told Steve.

“Jerk,” Steve snapped back.

Steve was twenty-four, and the one time Steve made an exception to his personal moratorium against religious rites was the day before Bucky shipped off to Europe.That day he joined with the Barnes family in prayer, not because he believed, but because Bucky did.Steve needed Bucky to come home.So he joined Bucky, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, and Becca around the family prayer book and Steve prayed for Bucky in every possible sense.Mrs. Barnes invited Steve to next shabbos dinner before he left, but Steve politely declined.Mrs. Barnes knew Steve well enough that she didn’t press.

As it turned out, by next shabbos Steve was at basic training at Fort Lehigh.By the one after he was no longer skinny, scrawny, sickly little Steve Rogers.He had been born again; delivered by science and baptized by gunfire.He was Captain America— the Army’s new god. 

Steve was twenty-six.Now Bucky was gone.Bucky wasn’t the only one, either— so many brave, noble young men had died simply because Captain America had asked them to.And for what?The war still raged on.Hell was empty; its devils were all here, and Captain America was beginning to think he might be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I haven't seen much (and maybe I've just missed it, given the sheer volume of Stucky fics in existence) is an acknowledgement of how chronic childhood illness impacts Steve psychologically. This chapter draws a lot from my own life experiences as an only child and survivor of life-threatening childhood illnesses. It's not uncommon for families to take care of each other the way I show Steve and Sarah doing. Asthma attacks, pneumonia, etc. all would have been routine for Steve- sort of a "here we go again" type thing; knowing that he could die, but really, it hasn't happened yet, don't worry, it's not as bad as it seems, seriously Ma/Bucky I'm fine (insert gif of Leslie Knope thinking she's doing cartwheels here.) On top of this, having such a different life experience tends to isolate these kids from their peers. This is all sort of a long way of saying that for Steve, anxiety and loneliness are baseline, and hiding how bad things are is second nature. There's a reason why children with chronic illnesses have much higher rates of anxiety, depression, and other mental illnesses than their peers. Recognizing your own mortality at a young age does things to people.


	8. You Underestimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve confronts Tony about his concerns for Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TWs for this chapter.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Something to Believe In" from Young the Giant.

Steve waited until late morning on Monday to talk to Tony about Peter.He had calculated his timing carefully.By 11 a.m. Tony would be awake and in his workshop.He’d still be hungover enough to be easily pushed, but not so hungover that he wouldn’t be functional.It would also be early enough that Peter would still be in school and not present to witness the altercation that was about to take place.

He texted Peter as he went down— just a short message saying he’d be welcome at Steve and Bucky’s apartment any time.Peter had been so awestruck that Steve highly doubted he would take advantage of it.It would be good for the kid to have a safe place to crash and vent about Tony if he needed it, though.

When Steve reached the workshop he noticed it was unusually quiet.Tony looked horrible.He was clearly not quite up to blasting AC/DC at full volume this morning.Steve felt a small pang of guilt about what he was going to do, but he quickly talked himself out of it.Peter was a _kid_.

“So I hear you have a new recruit?” Steve said casually, leaning up against the table Tony was working at.He and Tony tended to skip the niceties when they were fighting.Steve had never been one for unnecessary politeness when someone was being an asshole.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said grumpily.

“So Peter Parker really is just your science intern, and his spider suit is not made from Stark Tech.”Steve crossed his arms and stared at Tony with Righteous Disappointment.

Tony set his tools down and looked up at Steve.“How the fuck did you meet Peter?” he asked, clearly angry.It had been too easy to get Tony worked up— he was more hung over than Steve had counted on.

“He apprehended Bucky and I while we were getting Clint’s DVD.Webbed us to the fire escape and told us, and I quote, ‘So, you think breaking and entering is cool?’”Steve held his position, carefully not rising to Tony’s anger.He was finding it difficult.

Tony crossed his arms.“Well, were you breaking and entering?” he asked accusingly.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted.“We forgot to get the key from Clint and it seemed like the easiest way to keep Bucky from taking out the entire Russian gang.”

“Kid did good then,” Tony said.He unfolded his arms and turned back to his workbench.

Steve decided it was time to let his anger out a little.He slammed his hand down on the workbench, startling Tony.“Tony, he told us to put back whatever we’d taken and _then_ had to think of a consequence if we didn’t follow through.The kid is not ready for the job he’s taken on.”

Tony wheeled back around to face Steve.“You think I don’t know that?” he snarled.“Why do you think I gave him the damn suit?”Steve just stared at Tony, radiating anger and disappointment.“Did Parker tell you how we met?” Tony asked, pointing the screwdriver in his hand up at Steve’s heart. 

The steel in Steve’s eyes wavered for a moment.“No,” he admitted.Tony had him there.

“The kid was trying to stop an armed robbery while wearing a ski mask and a sweatshirt.No gear, no protection, no nothing.”Tony’s eyes blazed, his mouth thin and taut.“I couldn’t stop him, so I did the next best thing.I gave him protection.”

“You gave him a _suit_ ,” Steve said with frustration.“That’s not the same thing.”

Tony cocked his head as he looked at Steve.“Funny, I don’t remember you complaining when I gave _you_ a suit.Or your boytoy.Or your new bestie.”

Steve gripped the table.He was having to work very hard to keep it together.“That’s because we’re _adults_ , Tony.We’re capable of making life or death decisions for ourselves.Peter’s _sixteen_.”

“Ok, riddle me this, Iceman,” Tony said, folding his arms.“At 16 I was snorting cocaine at MIT while Rhodey literally dragged my ass out of trouble.What smart decisions were you making at 16?And were you really gonna let anyone stop you?”

Steve realized he was beaten.This was the same line of argument Bucky had used.He sighed, releasing some of the tension he was holding.“I was beating up bullies in alleyways in between bouts of pneumonia, and Bucky was dragging my bloody ass out of those alleys after finishing off the assholes.”He sighed again, looking resigned.“I still don’t like it, Tony,” Steve said.

“Neither do I,” Tony said, lowering his screwdriver.“But at least Parker has mentors now and he’s not just running around in a ski mask trying to get shot.”

“I’m still angry about this, Tony,” Steve said as he walked out the door.

“Fuck you too, Rogers,” Tony called after him.Steve stopped in the doorway, gave Tony a one-fingered salute, and then slammed the door behind him.Just because the others were right about Peter’s situation didn’t mean he had to like it.


	9. Sweating All My Sins Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Steve has a lot to deal with when he wakes up. Therapy doesn't seem to help, but punching does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TWs, but lots of angst/Catholic Guilt.
> 
> This chapter is set in the time between Steve waking up and the events of the first Avengers movie.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Cringe" by Matt Maeson.

Steve hadn’t even been awake for a week, but he was restless.He had 70 years of pent-up anxiety and anger and depression to work through and he couldn’t get drunk.S.H.I.E.L.D. had set him up with a therapist— an excellent woman, straight from the VA.She was trying her best with Steve, she really was.But Steve wasn’t used to counseling.No one saw therapists in his day.There were some terminology barriers, so Steve was finding that he had to get a basic idea of psychology to understand what she was saying when she talked about his diagnoses.Apparently, people didn’t psychoanalyze the way Freud had anymore.In fact, most of Freud’s theories had been thoroughly disproved. 

Then there were the questions in Steve’s mind about whether therapy was even useful.If the serum cured everything, then whatever was going on in his brain wasn’t something that needed doctors to fix— right?It would just heal itself— right?His therapist had told him that panic attacks and night terrors weren’t “normal”— that they were a sign of trauma.She had diagnosed him with a whole host of conditions.Steve didn’t understand what they all were yet.But if these conditions, whatever they were, weren’t things “normal” people dealt with, that would mean his brain had been damaged and the serum wasn’t fixing it.Was that even possible?Maybe it was the therapist who was wrong.Thinking about it made his head hurt.

Exercising to the point of exhaustion seemed like the next best option after therapy.It was a hard point to reach, usually taking at least 12 hours of non-stop hard physical activity with no meal or water breaks.It was possible though.Steve walked the familiar route from his makeshift bedroom in the S.H.I.E.L.D. office building (just until they could get an apartment for him, they said) to the locker room.

He lost track of time in the S.H.I.E.L.D. gym.No one bothered him- no one even came in.Sometimes when he was in there, young agents trying to prove themselves would want to spar.Other times personnel would watch from the window.It made him feel like the dancing monkey in his old drawing.Steve hated it.He was glad the crowds were gone for once.

Steve had a familiar gym routine.He started with warm-ups.Some calisthenics, like he’d done during basic training- or tried to do, since he was too skinny and sickly to do them well.Then he scaled the rock wall again and again.Each time he rappelled down he relived what he wished he’d done when Bucky fell off that train.He could have jumped.He could have gone back to search— to see if there was a body—

He did pushups, remembering that one time Bucky climbed on his back and told him to try a one-arm push-up _now_.He’d had that shit-eating grin that Steve could never, ever say no to.Steve showed off then, just for Bucky, switching arms after each push-up. Then all the Howling Commandos were doing their best to test his weight limits— dog piling on him, seeing if he could get away from them.Steve wondered where they all were now.How many of the commandos were still even alive?

He destroyed punching bag after punching bag, naming them all after Nazi and Hydra operatives he’d killed.It was a formidable list.The Howling Commandos had been a crack team.Steve still wished it was longer, though.

When Steve eventually ran out of Hydra names he started naming the punching bags after his sins. Despite no longer being religious, his Catholic Guilt ran deep.He breathed steadily as he listed them out. 

Pride, for thinking that America could be the be-all and end-all.The moral compass of the earth.Then waking up to learn that America was _still_ at war and essentially had been the entire time he was asleep.He hadn’t learned too much yet, but he’d met men and women who had introduced themselves as veterans of the Vietnam War or the Gulf War or the war in Afghanistan or the war in Iraq.He’d seen the homeless people on the streets, looking as bad as anyone in a Hooverville, while people better off walked past as though they couldn’t see.Finding out his pride had been misplaced made him angry.

Gluttony was the sheer amount of food he had required after the serum while other people were starving.His metabolism worked so much faster now— he needed the calories.In the meantime, food was rationed at home and soldiers were hungry abroad.And Steve had eaten rations for two, every single day that there was food to eat.It felt obscene.

His all-consuming wrath.Maybe Steve had a right to be angry— angry that so much hadn’t seemed to change, and angry that so much was different.Angry that he was alive.Angry that Bucky was dead.Angry that people were treating him like a toy, or a tool, or— well, Steve wasn’t sure what.He just wanted to be treated like a person.Was that really so much to ask?

The greed he had felt, willing to do anything to be in Europe with Bucky fighting Nazis.Bucky had told him he’d be better behind.That Steve would have his pick of girls, or would end up doing something vital to the war effort, or whatever the excuse of the day was.Steve hated it.He’d tried to sign up so many different times.When that hadn’t worked he leapt at the chance Erksine gave him.Was it greedy?To do this because yes, it was a righteous cause, but he’d also maybe be able to see Bucky?To fight by his side instead of Bucky cleaning up his mess?

The envy he felt whenever Bucky had talked about one of his dames.Steve didn’t even really know why he was jealous, other than when Bucky was going with a girl he spent less time with Steve.Or maybe it was because Steve never went out with anyone besides Peggy.No girl wanted to date a scrawny guy like him.It was Steve’s fault for not having friends besides Bucky.But in his jealousy, Steve had always blamed Bucky for going with girls who he knew weren’t the one for him.He’d say as much to Steve— that oh, it was just fun, it was fooling around, it didn’t really mean anything with this one— time after time after time.Meanwhile, Steve endured horrible blind dates and lonely nights alone with his sketchpad and his hand.It somehow seemed unfair.

His all consuming lust, which he had never been able to sate with his heart condition.And then Steve had met Peggy, and the way she looked at him- and then in Europe, after Steve had had the serum and his libido skyrocketed; when they had hours they were able to steal, and she was so warm and soft and _wet_ , and the way she’d looked as she slid down on top of his dick, and the noises she made as she taught him just how much pressure to apply to her clitoris with his tongue-

About the only sin he’d never needed to confess to, he thought wryly as Lust exploded into a puff of stuffing, was Sloth.


	10. What Have I Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter catches Steve in the act of self-harming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depiction of self-harm with a knife. Discussion of self-harm. Discussion of accidental death from self-harm.
> 
> You are responsible for what you choose to read. Not me, not a friend who sent you a link- you.
> 
> The Crisis Text Line number in the U.S. is 741741.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Hurt" as performed by Johnny Cash.

“Mr. Rogers sir you have to help me Mr. Stark’s gonna kill me when he finds—“ Peter broke off mid sentence.He’d run into Steve’s apartment without knocking and shut the door, only to find himself facing Captain America sitting on a kitchen barstool in a t-shirt and boxer-briefs with a switchblade deep in his thigh and his own hand on the handle.Peter bent over, hands on his thighs, steadying his breath.Steve turned red and removed his hand from the knife handle like it was white-hot.The knife stayed in his thigh as he looked down at the quartz countertop.

Peter had only met Captain America once, 36 hours ago, and they had only started texting that morning, but it was enough to know that despite the age difference they were kindred spirits.This is why he had run to Steve’s apartment after accidentally reprogramming one of Tony’s robots to do nothing but play “Never Gonna Give You Up” on loop.One was a poor orphan boy from Brooklyn with super serum.The other was a poor orphan boy from Queens with a radioactive spider bite.Peter walked over to Steve and sat on the stool next to him, as casually as possible for a teenager having just walked in on his idol stabbing himself in the thigh.

“You know, a girl in my class- Jen- used to do that,” Peter said casually, not actually looking at Steve.

“Used to?”

“Yeah.She accidentally cut too deep and bled out.About two years ago now.They made our whole year go to a counseling session in the gym after that.”Peter had pulled out his phone and was fidgeting with it, flipping it from end to end in his hands.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t know,” Steve said lamely.After a moment, he added, “Why’d she do it?”Steve knew horrible things happened to kids, but what was a kid that young dealing with to have as much pain as he did?

Peter shrugged.“Just depressed and anxious, I guess.Her parents found her diary.It was all about how she felt like she couldn’t stand the pressure of keeping her grades up and doing sports and stuff- you know, the usual.I think there was also some stuff about how she was worried about her dad, y’know, since he’s black and all that police brutality shit keeps happening.”

Steve’s eyebrows flew up.He could look at Peter now.There was a lot to unpack in what Peter had just told him.Steve settled for the easy route.“What do you mean, the usual?”

Peter shrugged again.This time he looked at Steve as he talked.“There’s just all this pressure, right?We’re all supposed to get straight A’s in the hardest classes they offer us and participate in sports and clubs and volunteer, just so we can maybe get into a good college and maybe get a scholarship so we’re not paying for it all with student loans that we can maybe pay off if we manage to land a good job.And then on top of that we have the monthly active shooter drills, and most of us have family members who’re some kind of minority or died in 9/11 or Afghanistan or Iraq so there’s all that to worry about.Plus the fact that climate change could wipe out, like, all of Manhattan and then everyone’s gonna want to live in our neighborhood.And if you tell anybody all this you maybe have to go to therapy where some stuffy old dude tells you to get off your phone and stop showing him memes, and if you’re really lucky they give you Xanax or Prozac or something.”

Steve exhaled slowly, taking it all in.Peter had rattled everything off kind of fast.He thought back to his conversations with Kate and Maria.He remembered all the headlines he’d read about “Millennials killing x industry” and school shootings and police brutality.Peter might not be a millennial, he was obviously still facing the same financial and social issues that the generation ahead of him was dealing with.The difference was that millennials hadn’t seen it coming.Peter’s generation did.“That’s really fucked up, kid.I didn’t realize you guys had it so bad.”

Peter shrugged for a third time, not quite hiding his surprise that Captain America just said fuck.“Hey, that’s just life, right?It kinda sucks.But at least it sucks for everyone so we can all make memes about it.”He brightened up suddenly.“Hey, Captain America, sir, can I show you how to Twitter?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve chuckled, surprising himself.It felt good to know he wasn’t the only one going through it.Steve’s own childhood hadn’t been exactly a picnic, the more he reflected on it now.He thought back to all of his classmates who had also lost family in World War I.Being made fun of for being Irish Catholic.Hearing the whispers about confirmed bachelors or spinsters.Being sick all the time, and how that kept him from engaging normally with his peers.But at least when Steve had gotten an F on a test it hadn’t been the end of his academic prospects.They’d never had active shooter drills.He’d never been afraid of what the police might do to him if they saw him on the street. “And Peter?,” Steve added as he pulled out his phone, “Call me Steve.”

When Bucky came home he found Steve and Peter on the couch cooing over dog pictures on Twitter, showing each other their phones excitedly before scrolling to the next one and repeating the process.Peter was in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers.Steve was in a t-shirt and boxer briefs, a forgotten switchblade still embedded deep in his thigh.Steve heard Bucky freeze, followed by a near-silent retreat to the bedroom.He noticed the faint scent of tobacco that indicated Bucky was smoking.After a few minutes, a notification popped up on Steve’s phone that made his heart sink.Bucky had opened one of his ebooks about psychology.Steve momentarily closed his eyes with dread, knowing that Bucky would discover and carefully pay attention to the sections that JARVIS had so helpfully highlighted for Steve in red and blue highlighter.

“You coulda told me it was that bad, Steve,” Bucky said a while later, once Peter had gone. 

Steve looked up from his Twitter feed absently.The knife was no longer in this thigh.The stab wound was already starting to heal.“Hmm?What was that?”

“You coulda told me outright you were hurting too.Instead you _lied_ to me.Here I was, thinking Sainted Steve had it mostly all together, and now it turns out you’ve been sticking your knife in your thigh for- how long now?”

“Bucky, I’m fine,” Steve lied.

“ _Steve._ ”Steve flinched.He didn’t have to look at Bucky to know that he was disappointed and angry and hurt and- worried? 

Steve had to stop and think back.“Two, three years, I guess.’

Bucky let out a low whistle.He plopped down on the couch next to Steve.“And I thought I was a huge fucking mess.You’ve been a goddamn train wreck this entire fucking time and you wouldn’t fucking tell me.”Steve added _tired_ to the list of emotions he could hear in Bucky’s voice.He also winced at the phrase “train wreck,” remembering a certain train that had led them to this point in their lives.

“Takes one to know one,” he said reflexively, and then realized what he’d said would hurt Bucky as much as it hurt him.“Oh shit, Buck—“

“Naw, don’t beat yourself up over this too.Punk.”Bucky still sounded disappointed and angry and hurt and worried and tired, but he playfully punched Steve on the shoulder to show him they were alright.

“Jerk,” retorted Steve. _Damn it_ , he thought.He had tried so hard to keep Bucky from knowing that he was— what?Weak?Human?A huge fucking mess that was so codependent on his best friend-turned-lover that he literally couldn’t survive without him?“I’m gonna go to bed,” he said as he got up from the couch.

“Already?” Bucky asked, surprised.“Do you want me to—?”He cut himself short as Steve shook his head.

“Naw, babe, I’m tired.I’m just gonna get some sleep.”Steve walked to the bedroom and stopped.He’d almost forgotten something.He turned to look at Bucky, who had been watching from the couch.“I love you, Bucky,” he said softly.

“I love you too, Steve,” Bucky replied, his voice cracking.

Steve went to bed and Bucky cried.


	11. Try to Kill It All Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Steve's history with self-harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Semi-graphic depiction of self-harm. Discussion of self-harm
> 
> Once again, only you are responsible for what you choose to read. Please make healthy decisions for yourself.
> 
> The Crisis Text Line number in the U.S. is 741741.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Hurt" as performed by Johnny Cash.

The 21st century reminded Steve of his studies of Ancient Rome. Houses of worship were everywhere, but even more pervasive was celebrity worship. To make matters worse, Captain America had been made into a martyr. He had died so that the war could be won. Steve was only slightly mollified when he found out that Bucky had also reached martyr status. Bucky’s love and loyalty was much more worthy of hero worship than Steve’s godless charm. When asked about the war, Steve always emphasized the men and women who had put their lives on the line to do the right thing. It made him feel slightly less guilty about the fact that many had done it for him.  
After his first week Fury had limited his gym hours to no more than a 4-  
hour block of time. (“You can’t hog the gym for 24 hours, Captain. We also can’t replace dummies at the rate you destroy them.”) Unfortunately, his depression and anxiety didn’t confine themselves to a neat 4 hour span. S.H.I.E.L.D. had assigned a different therapist, but he had a hard time opening up to the new one as well so he’d only seen her once. Besides, at this point Steve was pretty sure he could sum up his problems in one sentence. All his friends were dead and he’d spent 70 years as a Capcicle. Easy. Therapy session over.  
Someone at the Pentagon tried to help by suggesting that Steve volunteer at the VA. It was hell. Steve hid inside Captain America, thanking and praising the bravery of the men and women who told him they had enlisted because of him. He saw their missing limbs and heard about their PTSD and witnessed the effects of their traumatic brain injuries. Steve Rogers cried, afloat in the sea that was Captain America, unable to break through the persona and say what he really felt.  
Once in a while Steve considered going back to church, only because now he had a pretty good idea of how Jesus had felt. He wished he knew for sure whether Jesus was real. Steve would have given anything to be able to lean on someone with experience; someone who could give him advice. Instead he withdrew. There was little consolation in knowing that Steve could trust Captain America to do the moral thing when the means to the end rarely made Steve comfortable. Steve was so tired, though. He wished he really had ended things when he crashed the Valkyrie. Any sort of afterlife or lack thereof would be preferable to this.

The first time Steve cut himself it was by accident. He figured he’d see if the speed at which he drank alcohol affected whether he got drunk or not. He didn’t think it would, but it wasn’t like there was much else to do now that Kate and Maria were in California. Steve gulped down the entire Costco-sized bottle of whiskey in one, and he did feel it for a moment- and then the sensation dissipated and he was sober once more.  
Full of anger and hurt, he slammed the empty bottle down on the counter and missed, breaking the bottle in half on the edge of the quartz countertop. Steve felt pain and release- how odd- and then looked down, blinking. He’d accidentally driven the half of the bottle still in his hand deep into his thigh. He stared at it for a minute and then slowly pulled it out, just the way Clint had taught him to pull an arrow out of a target. He watched as the blood slowly spread on his heather gray sweatpants, and then stopped spreading as the wound started to clot and heal itself.  
The next morning there wasn’t even a scar.

The second time Steve cut himself it was on purpose. It had been an absolute shit day- he knew that he couldn’t rescue everyone, but damn it, he wanted to. When he was a boy he had prayed after losing a fight. Steve couldn’t find it in himself to do that now. He couldn’t get drunk and Tony had confiscated his car keys. (“You’re in no state to drive, Cap. I’m not gonna let you crash that pretty little Queenie of yours.”) Masturbating after a battle felt good, but it never released the additional anger and despair he felt after a mission gone south. Steve’s mind wandered as he threw away the tissues and he remembered back to the whiskey bottle.  
Steve knew vaguely that there would probably be a good argument against this. It seemed like shooting yourself in the foot— something that could get a man (or woman now, he reminded himself) sectioned. Then again, he wasn’t in the Army any more. Steve was also pretty sure that if S.H.I.E.L.D. started sectioning their operatives there would be no one left in the agency. And after all, it’s not like he could bleed out or catch an infection. He couldn’t even scar. No one would know.  
Tentatively, he pulled out his switchblade from the drawer in his nightstand and flicked it open. He laid back down in bed and stared at the blade for a minute, noting every line and curve and edge of it. Then, slowly, he pressed it into the side of his wrist with just enough pressure to break the skin without sinking into the bones or arteries. He breathed out, deep and ragged— he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. Then he pulled the knife across and out, leaving an oozing wet trail behind it.  
Steve felt calmer than he had all day.

Self-harm slowly became a habit. Steve promised himself at first that it would just be after battles that went south, when he really needed it, that sort of thing. But the anger and pain never really went away— not fully— and Steve found himself falling into a nightly routine. Masturbate, cut, sleep. Repeat. Masturbate, cut, sleep. Repeat.  
Steve felt a bit disgusted by what he was doing. He knew the others wouldn’t approve, but what else could he do? Nothing else released his emotions the way this did. It gave him something external to focus on so he could ignore the internal pain he felt. He was also sleeping better than he had in ages. Steve experimented with different methods of self-inflicted torture, testing boundaries and seeing what felt best. Different types of knives. Burning himself with different flame sources. How each location in his body felt when he cut or burned there. How long each type of wound took to heal. Occasionally he’d hurt himself beyond what his body could heal in an 8 hour span of time. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. Steve was grateful for that.


	12. Standing on the Overpass Screaming at the Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky turns to Sam for help with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of self-harm. Casual mention of suicide.
> 
> Chapter title is from "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers.

Bucky called Sam.He didn’t know what else to do.Luckily, Sam was still up and answering his phone.“Can I come over?” Bucky asked, his voice raspy from crying.

“Opening two beers as we speak,” Sam replied.

Bucky hung up and walked the short distance down the hall to Sam’s apartment.

“You doin’ ok, man?” Sam asked as he opened the door for Bucky.Bucky shook his head.

“It’s Steve,” Bucky managed to say.

“Say no more,” Sam said, opening his arms wide as he ushered Bucky into the apartment.“But actually, tell me what’s up,” he added as he sat at a kitchen stool and picked up his beer.

Bucky sat on the stool next to Sam and picked up the beer Sam had opened for him.They silently toasted and sipped.Bucky set his bottle down carefully and took a deep breath.“Steve’s been hurting himself,” he said flatly.

“Damn,” Sam said, shaking his head.“I knew he was putting on an act.I should’ve said something sooner.”

“Would he have listened, though?” Bucky asked drily.

“Fair point,” Sam said, tipping the neck of his bottle towards Bucky.

They sat for a moment, drinking in silence.“I should have realized,” Bucky said finally.“I mean, there was the- the Valkyrie.And he wasn’t- he was Steve, but he- well, when we were- were taking- taking down Hydra- I think sometimes, when he didn’t eat or sleep, it was- well, it was because he- he didn’t think he- deserved—“Bucky was slipping back into his problems with words again.That hadn’t happened for months.It was frustrating, but he knew he had to get through it for Steve.Sam was the only one Bucky knew could help.

Mercifully, Sam seemed to realize this.It was clear he had something he wanted to say, but he nodded at Bucky to continue.“And then- finding out Steve had been- had been fucking other people, well, that wasn’t- wasn’t _Steve_ , you know?Steve never- never even kissed a girl- until- until- until Peggy.And then, when he asked me to- Sam, he asked me to- to- to _hurt_ him, Sam, he said he wanted- when we fucked- he said- said it made him- _feel_.”

Bucky burst into tears as he said this.Sam moved his stool closer to Bucky’s and wrapped a hand around his shoulder, pulling Bucky into him.Bucky looked up at Sam, his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.“Worst- worst is- he _lied_ to me, Sam, he said he’d never hurt himself, he said he was ok, and then I walk in and he’s sitting with that Parker kid and there’s a goddamn switchblade sticking out of his thigh and—“ Bucky couldn’t finish.He folded his arms on the counter in front of him, buried his head in the hollow they made, and sobbed.Sam rubbed Bucky’s back as he convulsed with tears.“Three years,” he choked out, his voice muffled by flesh and metal.“Three years and I never fuckin’ knew.”

Sam let Bucky cry until he ran out of tears.He silently passed Bucky a box of kleenex when he was done and waited until Bucky had cleaned his face up a bit before he spoke.“You know what I’m gonna say first, don’t you,” Sam said gently.

“Don’t blame yourself, yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled.

“Exactly,” Sam said.“You aren’t responsible for Steve.Only Steve is.Putting that plane in the ice, sleeping around, hurting himself, refusing to sleep or eat— all those decisions are on him.And they are decisions, Bucky.He made decisions that made himself feel better in the short term without thinking of the long term consequences.”

Bucky snorted.“Yeah, well, when a guy spends most of his life being told he’s not gonna make it past 30, he doesn’t tend to make long term plans,” he said wryly.

“Has Steve ever had to take care of himself?” Sam asked, curious.

This time Bucky laughed.“For about three, four months, while I was at basic,” he answered.“And even then he had my sister checking in on him weekly.”He was relieved to find his words coming back.Nowdays they only betrayed him when he needed to communicate something of utmost importance— unless he was simultaneously fucking Steve, of course.The little fuckers.

Sam nodded thoughtfully.“So what I’m hearing you say is that Steve literally doesn’t know how to take care of himself.When he finds himself in situations where his primary caregiver is gone, he goes to unnecessary extremes to cope with— well, I can’t diagnose anything ‘cause I haven’t talked to him, but grief, depression, and an inability to take care of himself seem like a good place to start.”

“So you’re sayin’ I’m a helicopter parent,” Bucky quipped.

Sam glared at Bucky.“I’m not saying anything about you,” he said.“You did the best you could for the guy you loved while he was literally dying an extremely slow and moderately painful death.”He took a sip of his beer.“You know, I heard about something like this recently from a guy in a class I was taking.Continuing education, you know,” Sam clarified.“He works pediatric oncology.I guess it’s not uncommon for a patient to have a bit of an adjustment to going from being coddled 24/7 to when they’re off treatment and doing well.They get kinda spoiled, for lack of a better term.”

“So you’re saying Steve’s like a kid with cancer,” Bucky said, giving Sam some side-eye.

“I’m saying you have a guy with chronic illnesses that were going to kill him until one day, they weren’t,” Sam clarified.“Problem was, whether he liked it or not, he was used to other people looking out for him.Then he became a super soldier and suddenly no one was watching his six anymore— not until he busted your ass outta Azzano, anyway.And then you died and Steve woke up in a new century.”

“So what should I do?” Bucky asked.He felt desperate.He wanted to help Steve recover the way Steve had helped him, but it sounded like that might be the last thing Steve needed.“Should I go away?”

“And leave me with a suicidal Captain America?Hell no,” Sam said, horrified.“No, you stay right here and keep doing what you’re doing.”

Bucky looked at Sam desperately.“But we’ve got to do something!” he cried.

“What’re you saying?” Sam asked, his face full of skepticism.“You want to stage an intervention?”

“Would it help?” Bucky asked.

“Hell, I don’t know,” Sam said.

“I mean, if it all goes wrong, at least he can’t kill himself,” Bucky reminded Sam.Sam looked appalled at the idea.“What?” Bucky asked.“It’s true!”

“I forget that you Depression-era folks talk like that,” Sam said, taking another sip of his beer.

Bucky winced.“I’m not even gonna- look, should we do this?” he asked Sam.“Get Clint, Nat, and Tony to come round and tell Steve to get his head outta his ass?”

Sam grimaced.“I mean, not exactly, but… maybe it would be good for him to realize that all his friends are in therapy and maybe he should be, too.”

“Nat’s not in therapy,” Bucky corrected.“She just drinks vodka.”

“Well, she should be,” Sam said grumpily.“Vodka is not a substitute for actually working on your issues.”They sat in silence for a minute, sipping their beer and ignoring the irony of the situation.“Wait,” Sam said slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Natasha hung over.”

“That’s because she got the serum like I did,” Bucky explained casually.“It was a weaker dose, because she’s aged a bit since they injected her at 18, but she still heals pretty fast and it takes a lot to get her drunk.”Bucky smiled fondly at the memory of Natalia Romanova getting drunk for the first time after the serum to see how she’d react.She’d confessed to Bucky that she saw him as the father she’d never had.She didn’t remember saying it in the morning.He still saw her as something of a daughter.It was a secret Bucky would take to the grave.

“Fine,” Sam sighed.“We’ll schedule an intervention?”

“Tomorrow, when Steve gets back from his run,” Bucky said.“I’ll text the others.”

“Don’t blame me if it all goes to hell,” Sam warned.

“I will,” Bucky said, draining his bottle of beer.“Thanks, birdbrain.I don’t know what I’d do without you.”He got up from his stool and made his way towards the door.He felt a lot better than he had when he first stepped into Sam’s apartment.

“Fuck you, man,” Sam called after Bucky.Bucky just raised a finger as he walked out the door.


	13. Oh Sky, Won't You Give Me a Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Sam, Tony, Clint, and Peter stage an intervention, forcing Steve to confront that it's ok to not be ok and that he's worthy of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific TWs for this chapter, but it does discuss Steve's issues from previous chapters and draws from issues the characters have dealt with canonically (including nods to Fraction's Hawkeye.)
> 
> I was really excited to explore how I think the serum affects brain function and trauma recovery, so enjoy my headcanon! (Get it? Brain function head canon?)
> 
> Also, maybe don't try a big intervention like this at home? But my dramatic ass couldn't resist.
> 
> Chapter title from "Sign" by Jeremy Renner.

Steve got back from his morning run to find Sam, Clint, Tony, and Peter sitting in the living room with Bucky.A piece of printer paper taped to the TV bore the word ‘intervention’ in Clint’s scrawling, block capital print.He’d even used red ink.Steve sighed as he grabbed a jug of milk from the fridge.This had to be about yesterday with the switchblade.He had been hoping that Peter and Bucky would let it drop.“Alright, what’s this about,” Steve said as he leaned against the kitchen island.He took the cap off the milk and proceeded to take a swig from the carton.

Bucky shuddered.“Your bad manners, for a start,” he grumbled.“I can hear your ma rolling over in her grave every time you do that.Dunno where you got that disgusting habit.”

“Oh, that’s on me,” Clint volunteered.“It’s one of my depression habits.Drinking from the carton means not having dirty dishes piling up and it’s better than not eating.”

Sam, who had also been looking at Steve like he’d turned into a feral raccoon at the display with the milk jug, managed to neutralize his expression a little.“Ok, Clint, that’s a really fair point.”

“He was a really fair therapist,” Clint said, his eyes wistful and a small smile on his lips.“Legs for days.The minute he told me he thought I’d benefit from seeing a different therapist for a while I jumped him and we fucked right there in the office.”Peter, who was just meeting more of his heroes for the first time, looked horrified.So did Sam, for different reasons.“Relax, Falcy Falc, the professional relationship was over.”Clint took a sip from the carafe of coffee he’d brought with him.

Tony glared daggers at Clint.“Bucky,” he said through clenched teeth, “I thought part of the reason you asked me to invite the kid was to make sure people behaved.” 

“Well, yeah,” Bucky said uncomfortably.“But unfortunately, sex is going to be a natural part of this conversation, so… sorry, Charlie.”Bucky gave Peter a sympathetic glance.Steve’s heart sank.Not only was this conversation not going to be just about the knife, but Bucky was afraid that Steve would lose his temper and had invited a kid to make sure he stayed on his best behavior.

“So you’re all here to chastise me,” Steve said.He carefully kept his expression neutral and his voice even.Inside, though, he was already seething, but also a tiny bit… relieved?

“We’re not here to judge you,” Sam reassured.

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky muttered, glaring at Steve.Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ok, _he’s_ here to judge you,” Sam corrected.“But that’s nothing new.”

“The rest of us are here because we’re your _friends_ , and we’re worried about you,” Tony said.“I have offered time and time again to get you the best therapists money can buy, and time and time again you _lied_ to me and told me you were fine.You know how that makes a guy feel?”When Steve made it clear he wasn’t going to answer by taking a large swig of milk, Tony answered for him.“It makes a guy feel like shit.My love language is money, Rogers.When you reject what I have to offer and then I find out you actually needed it, I feel hurt and rejected.”

Sam nodded.“That was good, Tony.”

“Thanks,” said Tony drily.“Years of therapy.By the way, kid,” he added, turning to Peter.“You need a therapist?”

Peter blushed and started.“Um- probably,” he replied.“My ACE score is pretty high, so…”

Tony nodded.“I know a gal you’ll love.Her office is practically papered in memes.”Peter’s face brightened as he broke into a grin.

“So you’re all here to tell me I’m a fuckup and need therapy,” Steve grumbled.

“Not exactly,” Sam said.

“We’re here to tell you that we’re all fuckups and need therapy, and it’s ok for you to need therapy too,” Clint told Steve.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Steve complained.“The serum—“

“Fixes us, yes,” Bucky interrupted.“But here’s the thing, Stevie.Bruce has had JARVIS doing scans of my brain periodically, to see how it’s functioning and healing.JARVIS, you wanna tell Steve what we’ve found?”

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS answered.“Sergeant Barnes’ brain has been in a constant cycle of injury and repair since he arrived at the tower.When he arrived, certain sections were working harder to compensate for other sections, which were effectively silent.This was due to the trauma and repeated electrical damage he suffered as the Winter Soldier.”A projected image of a brain popped up on the TV underneath the sign.It was labeled ‘Barnes, James Buchanan, 1/12/2014.’It was mostly dark, but the amygdala was lit up like a Christmas tree.More scans popped up, most dated a week apart from each other, each one with more sections lit up than the previous.A few indicated that they had been conducted over several days of observation.

“These are composite images showing bran activity over a 24 hour period of time,” JARVIS explained.“As you can see, Sergeant Barnes’ overall brain activity has expanded considerably, utilizing more and more of the brain’s systems.However,” JARVIS continued as arrows and circles popped up on the screen, “we can see that during times of stress or further trauma, brain function reduces in a manner consistent with diagnoses of PTSD, depression, etc.”The arrows and circles shifted.“Here, we see the effects of recovery actions during those periods of lower brain function.Positive coping mechanisms, such as socialization, exercise, and mindfulness techniques are associated with a positive net healing factor.Negative coping mechanisms, such as isolation or ignoring basic physical needs, are associated with a short term benefit followed by a steep reduction in brain function.”

Steve set down the milk carton, folded his arms, and knitted his eyebrows.“So what are you saying?” he asked.

“We’re saying,” Sam replied, “that you’ve never had to learn to take care of yourself on your own before, so you’ve inadvertently gotten yourself into a cycle of coping mechanisms that are preventing your recovery.”

“And you’re too chickenshit and stubborn to ask for help,” Bucky added.Sam glared at Bucky.

Steve’s lips thinned with frustration.“JARVIS, how does smoking affect Barnes’ brain activity?”Bucky twitched nervously.Steve only used his last name when he was extremely angry with him.

“That is extremely fascinating, sir,” JARVIS replied.The images of Bucky’s brain that were on the screen disappeared.They were replaced by a model and an image of Bucky’s brain from just a few weeks ago.The arrows and circles popped back up, comparing parts of both brains.“In a normal human, we see nicotine and other substances affect brain function, cancelling out any positive effects the deep breathing and ritual comfort associated with smoking may have.However, in Sergeant Barnes’ case, the nicotine as almost no effect on his neurotransmitters.He does appear to positively benefit from it as a calming ritual.”

“Damn,” Steve muttered.He knew he’d been grasping at straws, trying to turn this back on Bucky, but he hadn’t expected the attempt to fail this miserably.He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sank into it, allowing his shoulders to slump.

“Well, in that case,” Bucky said, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket.

Tony glared.“Not around the kid,” he told Bucky.

“Fine,” Bucky replied.“I’ll crack open a window.”

“The hell you will,” Tony said.“We’re on the 70th floor, these windows don’t open.”

Bucky walked over to the window and punched it with his metal hand.The glass shattered on impact.“Now they do,” he said, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag.He sighed and visibly relaxed.

Tony turned red and started to mutter, but Sam cut him off.“I was thinking,” he said, “that we should all go around the room and tell Steve why we’re worried about him, one thing we love about him, and how therapy has positively impacted our lives.Who’d like to start?”Steve groaned inwardly.Sam may as well have announced that they were all about to stab Caesar.Bucky was definitely Brutus.

“I can,” Peter said awkwardly.Sam nodded approvingly.“Um- Mr. Rogers, sir- Steve,” he added as Steve glowered at him.Peter swallowed hard, but he kept going.“I haven’t really benefitted from therapy yet, but I know other people who have.Depression and stuff isn’t- I mean, I know we joke about it, but it isn’t fun, it isn’t good, and not taking care of it hurts everyone around you, which I know isn’t actually a helpful thing to say but- well, sir- Steve—“Peter took a deep breath.“You’re a role model.You really helped a lotta kids when you came out, and I think if you could deal with it you’d really be great at helping other people handle what they’re dealing with too.You’re, like, famous for helping the little guy, so like- Captain America showing us how to use dark humor right, as a coping mechanism, would be awesome.”Peter dropped his eyes from Steve’s face to the floor.Steve found himself tearing up.

Clint went next.“You’ve been hidin’ this from us for a long time, Steve,” he said.“I remember that first Pride, seein’ you go from sad to happy in the blink of an eye, and— well, kids do that, but adults not so much.I knew you were hidin’ something and it was gonna come back to bite you in the ass because that’s exactly what happened to me.

“I never told ya about my childhood,” Clint continued, “but it was hell.My parents died so my brother and I ran away and joined the circus.My brother beat me— that’s how I lost my hearing— the other carnies beat me, and eventually I had enough so I got out.Found myself working as a hit man.Fury found me and decided S.H.I.E.L.D. could use a man of my… talents.One day Fury dropped by my apartment to see why I wasn’t answerin’ my phone.My phone was dead, see, ‘cause I couldn’t be bothered to charge it.He took one look at the beer bottles all over the place and had me temporarily sectioned.Day one I was pissed off and refused to talk to anyone.By day three I was sobbing on the shoulders of a therapist I’d literally met 15 minutes before.”

Clint took a sip of his coffee.“You’re a good guy, Steve,” he told him.“You should take care of yourself the same way you take care of everyone else.”A tear rolled down Steve’s face.

Tony sighed.“I’ll go next,” he said.“And I’m gonna start with this— Parker, close your ears until I’m done— Fuck you, Steve,” he spat out, holding up both middle fingers.Steve started.“Yeah, I’m angry,” Tony said.“You weren’t the one that had to listen to Barnes freaking out about your one night stands.I know something about using casual sex as a coping mechanism and take it from me, pal, it _doesn’t work_.”He glared at Steve.“On top of that, you _lied_ to me.Friends don’t lie. Avoid the truth, sure but outright lying to me?To _Barnes_?To the rest of your friends?You’re better than that, Steve, and we deserve better.Parker, you can open your ears again.”

Tony got up and started pacing.“Pepper made me go to therapy again once she realized I was using the suits to compensate for my feelings of inadequacy.Best thing she ever did for me.We’ve even been able to work on some of my copious daddy issues.We love you, Steve,” Tony said, his face and tone softening.“We need you.You help us all feel a little bit more human.It’s ok for you to be human too, Steve.I can’t be Iron Man all the time.No one expects you to be Cap all the time.In fact,” Tony added, grinning now, “I’m pretty sure I’d murder you in your sleep if you were.”

Steve managed a weak grin at this.A couple more tears rolled down his cheeks.He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he was feeling something that hurt and warmed him all at the same time.

Sam and Bucky exchanged a glance.Bucky nodded at Sam and lit a second cigarette.Sam nodded back and began to speak.“When we first met and I saw you running, well— I was pretty impressed at how you were coping with everything,” he said.“You hid your issues real well, and that’s not a complement, Steve.It’s concerning.It tells me that you’ve been dealing with a lot for a long time.And that’s especially hard for me to see in a kind, sensitive, loving guy like you.”

Sam took a deep breath.“The thing is, this is normal.I mean, it’s not _normal_ normal, but for what you’ve been through?No one expects you to be all sunshine and roses.Your love language seems to be acts of service, right?You like doing things for people.Fighting their fights, little things to make their lives easier, taking time out of your day to show them you care.Well, consider going to therapy as an act of service to your friends.The biggest thing you could do for us is to take care of yourself.We can’t make you better, Steve.You gotta do that on your own.”

Steve choked back a sob.He knew his friends loved him, but he’d never expected to hear all this.He grabbed the milk from off the kitchen island and took a sip to steady himself.

“Its ok to cry, Steve,” Sam said, and suddenly he was sobbing with his face in his hands.He felt a strong, warm arm wrap around him.Steve smelled tobacco and woodsy aftershave mixed with Bucky’s particular musk.He leaned into Bucky, burying his face in Bucky’s stomach.

“It’s ok, Stevie, I got you,” Bucky said softly around his cigarette.He wrapped his metal arm around Steve and pulled him closer.The others began to file out slowly.

When Steve finally ran out of tears he realized that his emptiness seemed to have been filled with a deep, aching need.He turned his head, pressing his ear and cheek against Bucky’s body now, and looked up at Bucky.Bucky was gazing at Steve tenderly, his own eyes betraying tears.The cigarette was gone from his mouth now.

“Will you take care of me?” Steve whispered, high and quiet.He felt almost childlike asking, which is probably why he accidentally added “Daddy,” barely audible.

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky sighed.“Whaddya think I been doin’?”Steve felt the words rumble through Bucky.It was comforting.

Steve blushed.“I meant—“

“I know what you meant, Stevie doll, and you know what I meant.”Bucky laid a gentle kiss on Steve’s hair.“I promise to take care of you in every way possible for the rest of our lives.I die first, I’ll come back from the grave and beat your ass every time ya step outta line.”

Steve managed a small smile.“You know I’m gonna follow you into the grave, pal.Only this time, I’ll do more to make sure you’re actually dead, and then I’ll kill myself better.”

Bucky glared.“Pretty sure that’s an ass-beatable offense,” he growled.

Steve snaked an arm around Bucky.“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same if it was me,” he chided.

Bucky sighed in resignation.“We are the most co-dependent couple in the world,” he moaned.“Yeah, alright, pal, we go out as a murder-suicide.Agatha Christie’ll rise from the grave specially to solve the case of who killed who.We’ll be one of those unsolved mysteries.”

Steve found himself laughing.“Exactly,” he said.They sat there for a moment, holding each other.Eventually, though, Steve couldn’t ignore the longing in his chest.“Daddy— please?” he whispered, looking back up at Bucky wide-eyed.He fluttered his eyelashes, in case Bucky needed any more convincing.

Oh Stevie,” Bucky sighed again.“What am I gonna do with you?”But he stood up, taking Steve into his arms.Steve wrapped his own arms around Bucky’s neck and cuddled in close.Sex talk always made it easier for Steve to admit that he needed things.He hoped this was one of the positive coping mechanisms JARVIS had mentioned.He sighed contentedly, ready for what he knew was about to follow.


	14. How a Light Can Move From the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have a deep, meaningful conversation while having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy these ridiculous, mushy, codependent, messed-up fuckers.
> 
> Chapter title is from "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers.

That had gone better than he’d expected, reflected Bucky as he carried Steve into the bedroom. He had expected Steve to get angry, make accusations, maybe even yell. He was a stubborn bastard after all. Thankfully, Steve seemed to have had the sense to listen to truth.

  
“I got a lot I wanna say to ya,” Bucky told Steve as he gently laid him down on the bed. “But don’t worry, Stevie doll, I’ll take care of ya first.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, daddy,” he whispered.

Bucky stripped for Steve. He didn’t take his time like he usually did when he gave Steve a show, but he didn’t rush either. Then he climbed on top of Steve and kissed him, slow and deep. Steve arched into the kiss, needy and desperate. Bucky reached for the hem of Steve’s shirt and pulled it up. Steve curled up, raising his arms, allowing Bucky to pull his tight exercise shirt off as gently as possible.

Bucky decided to cover every square inch of Steve in kisses. He dropped down to Steve’s waist, making Steve gasp. Bucky worked his way up Steve’s torso slowly, pressing his lips deep into Steve’s hard lines and soft curves. He stopped at Steve’s nipples, tonguing them gently. He licked the hard lines of Steve’s biceps and triceps, watching Steve shiver with pleasure. He pressed his lips harder into the hollows of Steve’s neck, eliciting a gentle gasp of “Bucky!” from Steve’s lips. He pressed his lips even harder against Steve’s jaw, meeting Steve’s stubble gently with his teeth. He spent extra time on Steve’s lips, licking and sucking, Steve’s lips softly pressing back in reply. His stomach fluttered as Steve’s eyelashes brushed his pale cheeks when Bucky kissed his eyelids. He sucked gently on Steve’s earlobes, savoring Steve’s moan as he whispered almost silently into Steve’s ear, more breath than sound: “Turn over.”

Steve obliged. Bucky started at the nape of Steve’s neck and worked his way down, applying extra pressure with his tongue to the little knots of stress he found in Steve’s back. Steve groaned with release as Bucky worked them loose. It was a weird thing, realizing that even his tongue was stronger than before, but there were nice benefits to it. This was definitely one of them.

When Bucky reached Steve’s waistband Steve lifted his hips. Bucky pulled Steve’s running shorts down slowly, taking his briefs with them. Bucky hated the ugly white things, but Steve said they were more comfortable for running than boxers. Bucky was not one to begrudge a man comfort. He didn’t give them a second glance as he dropped them to the floor, however.

Bucky began kissing Steve again in the small of his back. He cupped Steve’s round cheeks in his hands and began to massage them slowly as he worked his way down, tonguing Steve’s crack and teasing at his rim. Steve began to whine. “Not yet, Stevie,” Bucky told him. “I’m gonna give you all the love you deserve first.” He let go of Steve’s ass and ran his hands down Steve’s thighs, his lips working lower and lower.

He licked the insides of Steve’s thighs. Steve had the legs of a runner: long and lean, with hard, muscular lines. Bucky tickled Steve’s leg hair and the backs of his knees with his tongue, making Steve laugh. He smiled into Steve’s calves. He decided to skip Steve’s feet— he had his limits— and instead whispered, “Turn back over for me, Stevie doll.” Steve complied with an anticipatory moan.

Bucky worked his way back up Steve’s legs at the same pace he’d worked his way down. He continued to tickle, switching to teasing as he reached Steve’s thighs. He worked his lips over Steve’s hips, pressing hard and enjoying Steve’s groans. Finally, he licked Steve’s perineum with as much gentle force as he could muster, ending at the base of Steve’s balls. Bucky opened his mouth as wide as he could and carefully took them in, caressing them with his tongue. “Bucky,” Steve moaned, “I want you.”

Bucky gently released Steve’s balls from his mouth. “You have me, Stevie,” he moaned back, deep and dark. He was more than ready— he wanted Steve so badly— but his desire to take care of Steve was even stronger. He reached for the lube on the nightstand, knowing he would need it soon. Steve shivered.

Bucky licked a stripe down the underside of Steve’s cock, starting at the base and ending at the tip. He swirled his tongue over the small hole at the end, tasting Steve’s precum. Then he swallowed Steve down, sucking and swirling his tongue. He lubed up his flesh fingers and slowly inserted one into Steve’s anus. Usually Bucky used his metal hand for this, but today Bucky wanted to emphasize their human connection.

Steve clearly didn’t mind. “Oh Bucky,” he moaned, reaching down and twisting his hand into Bucky’s hair. Bucky continued his leisurely pace, sucking and licking, occasionally looking up at Steve through his eyelashes. He slipped a second finger in slowly and began to work them, widening Steve and gently palpitating his prostate. “Oh Bucky, you’re so good to me,” Steve gasped. “I’m gonna—“ Bucky took Steve deeper into his mouth and Steve came, hot and hard down Bucky’s throat. Bucky moaned and swallowed. He worked a third finger in as he began to clean Steve up with his mouth.

Steve began to babble as Bucky kneaded his prostate. “You’re so good to me, Bucky, I don’t deserve—“

But Bucky cut him off. “You do deserve,” he growled, glaring up at Steve. “Didn’t you listen to a damn thing anyone said? You deserve all of this and more.” He pulled his fingers out and began to lube his dick.

“I feel so empty without you, Bucky,” Steve whined.

“I know, Stevie, I know,” Bucky cooed in a deep voice. “That’s our whole problem, isn’it? We can’t live without each other,” he said, positioning the tip of his dick at Steve’s rim. “Never have,” he continued as he eased in, ignoring Steve’s moans. “Army separates us, I end up an elite sniper and prisoner of war and you become a living science experiment who loves wearing tights.” Bucky rolled his hips into Steve softly, experimenting with how slow and gentle he could go.

“Pretty sure we’re the most codependent fuckers since Romeo ’n Juliet.” Bucky found a rhythm he liked and hummed in pleasure. All Steve could do was emit quiet little gasps and moans.

“I’m angry with you, Stevie,” Bucky continued. “I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me with yourself. I trusted you with everything, Stevie. You lied, and you broke your promise to me that you would take care of yourself.” He sped up his thrusts a tiny bit. Bucky could feel himself tensing as he unburdened himself to Steve. This was the opposite of what he wanted. He tried to channel his emotions into his hips.

“I didn't mean to hurt you, Bucky,” Steve said raggedly. Tears were coming into his eyes again. “I can’t think when I’m like that.”

“I know, doll, I know,” Bucky murmured reassuringly. “I been there, Stevie. I know.”

“Daddy,” Steve said in a small voice, “I think I need help.”

“I know you do, babydoll,” Bucky told him. He spend up a little more. “But you’ve gotta wanna be better, Stevie. I can’t fix you. No one can do that but you.”

“It’s so hard,” whispered Steve, tears streaming down his face.

“I know, doll, I know,” Bucky said. “But it gets easier after a while, I promise.” He adjusted himself so he was hitting Steve’s prostate with his dick, working it over and over. Steve began to sob, his body shuddering underneath Bucky. “Are you ok, Stevie?” Bucky asked, pausing.

“Please, daddy, don’t stop, fill me up,” Steve begged through his tears. Bucky began to thrust again, deeper and faster.

“I promise you everything I have, Stevie,” Bucky rasped. The sight of Steve like this, more vulnerable and honest and open than he had seen him since he first came back, maybe even more willingly vulnerable than he’d ever seen him before— it made Bucky want Steve in every way possible. He wanted to open Steve up and remake every inch of him, pouring all his love into Steve, mending all his broken pieces, making him whole. He knew that was Steve’s job— Steve would have to mend himself— but damnit, Bucky wished he could do it for him.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve sobbed. “I love you more than I know how to say. I love you so much more than I’ve ever loved myself. I hate myself for not being able to feel my love for you sometimes.”

This was too much. Steve’s body wracked in a particularly large sob, his muscles tightening over Bucky’s dick. Bucky began to sob himself as he orgasmed. “Oh Steve,” he choked out as he collapsed on Steve, his cock still buried deep inside him. They lay together, tears and sweat mingling on their skin.

Finally, Bucky sighed and pulled out. He shifted onto his side next to Steve, his right arm cradled beneath Steve’s neck and his left arm across Steve’s chest. He wrapped his top leg tightly around Steve’s. He desperately wanted another cigarette— there was a lot of emotion going on, and Bucky wanted to regain his center. He knew he needed to finish telling Steve what was on his mind first, though.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky began, locking eyes with Steve. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you gettin’ beat up in that alleyway. You were such a mess of contradictions, Steve— this tiny little guy with the balls, brains, and heart of a twelve-foot giant. You’re the kindest, most faithful, loyal guy to everyone you meet— except yourself. You give so much of yourself to everyone that you’ve never stopped to think about what you’ve got left. You lived your life like a man who was dying, Stevie. No point in keeping what you couldn’t take with you, yeah?”

Steve’s face was screwed up in an effort not to howl. Bucky cupped Steve’s head with the hand that was behind his neck and started to rub gently with his thumb. “But we’re gonna live, Steve,” Bucky reminded him. “We made it through science experiments and war and our own private hells. We came out of it, Stevie, and now we’ve gotta live. Livin’ like you’re gonna live is a whole lot different from livin’ like you’re dying, Stevie. Believe me, I’ve done both.”

Steve’s eyes opened wide at this. Bucky continued. “When I got sent to Europe, well, I knew you didn’t have much longer the way the doctors were talkin’, so I didn’t see much point in comin’ back. ‘Specially not once we got there and saw what Hitler was doin’ to my people. So I- I became a good sniper, Stevie. I never told you what that was like. Looking through that scope- you see who you’re gonna kill, like they’re up close, and you watch it happen, and you know it’s you. An’ they never saw you comin’, never had a chance, and some of the time you just have to hope that it was the right person you killed and not some poor civilian who happened to wander through the wrong place at the wrong time. It doesn’t do much for a guy’s humanity, Stevie. I know you knew I was doin’ the dirty work, but I- I never wanted you to know how dirty it really was, Stevie. I was afraid you’d hate me.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and kissed his cheek. “I knew, Bucky,” he said quietly. “And I could never hate you. I- I admired you, actually, for being able to do whatever it took to get the job done. It helped me stop worrying about whether I was fightin’ fair or not.”

“You’re gettin’ me off topic, Stevie,” Bucky complained, although that wasn’t strictly accurate. Steve sighed and nuzzled his face into Bucky’s neck. “Thing is, Steve, I ended up in Azzano ‘cause I got stupid. I figured I wasn’t gonna get outta that war alive, so I may as well take down as many Nazis as I could along the way. I might’ve been able to escape, but what was the point? My men were getting captured and the guy I loved was at home dyin’ without known’ how I felt about him. So I blew my cover. I was used to takin’ stupid risks, actually pretty good at it by that point, but that day I just— I just stepped out of my blind and started shooting. I got a fair few of ‘em, but- it was a death wish, Steve. Didn’t seem like the future held much for me, so I said fuck it ’n— well, you know how that turned out.”

Bucky let out a deep sigh. “After Azzano, I wasn’t right. They’d tortured me, and they’d done that first dose of serum, and then my best friend shows up lookin’ like a wet dream all ready to save my ass, and to top it all off he’s got a girl who looks like a million bucks and fights like a general. Sometimes I wonder whether I- whether I could have held on better, on that train, if I’d- if I’d cared about myself just a little bit more.”

“Bucky,” Steve gasped, absolutely appalled. “Don’t you- don’t you dare—“

“I’ve talked about this a lot with Sam,” Bucky interrupted. “Thing is, when you found me in D.C., I- I wanted to get better for you, Steve. So I did. I worked really hard, and eventually I realized that I was wantin’ to get better for myself, too. It got a lot easier after that. You’re still my reason, on the hard days, but- I’m here for you, Steve. I wanna be your reason until you can be your own reason. Will you let me, Steven Grant Rogers? Will you let me do that for you?”


	15. I Wanna Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky continue their conversation with post-sex cigarettes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've got this, Steve!
> 
> Chapter title is from "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers.

Steve was a mess of emotions. He’d just had the gentlest, most sensual fucking of his life.His aching need had been filled to bursting, exploding into sobs and more love and joy than he’d thought he could ever feel again.He’d finally been able to tell Bucky how he felt and what he’d been hiding, too scared to admit.And then the things Bucky had said— 

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he whispered in answer to Bucky’s question.“My reason.”Steve could get better for Bucky.He had to.Bucky had been able to do it, after all.He would be there for Steve.For the first time, Steve thought he could see some light at the end of the tunnel.He hoped it wasn’t another goddamn train.

Bucky kissed him, slow and deep, sealing the pact.Steve kissed back, luxuriating in the feel of Bucky’s lips and the way he tasted.He sighed into Bucky’s mouth as Bucky gently released him and leaned his forehead against Bucky’s.They stayed like that for a moment before Bucky broke away.

“Now, to completely ruin the mood,” Bucky said, “I’m going to have another cigarette.It’s been a bit of a morning,” he added sheepishly.Steve propped himself up on one arm and watched, his emotions mixed as Bucky opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the pack of cigarettes and lighter he kept in there expressly for this purpose.He pulled one out and lit it, giving Steve some side eye.He exhaled a puff of smoke and rolled his eyes at the expression on Steve’s face.“I know, I know, bad example, yadda yadda yadda,” he grumbled.

Steve sighed and sat up.“Just- just gimme one, Buck.”

Bucky nearly dropped his lit cigarette onto the sheets in surprise.“What?” he asked, incredulous.

“Gimme a damn cigarette, Bucky, or do I gotta do everythin’ myself around here?”Steve started to reach over Bucky.Bucky handed him one and proceeded to light it for him.

“You _hate_ smoking,” Bucky said emphatically.“You’re always tellin’ me how bad it is—“

“I’m tellin’ ya what a bad example you are, Buck, not that I hate it.”Steve closed his eyes as he exhaled.Bucky was right about deep breathing being calming.He hadn’t really done it after the serum, since he didn’t have asthma anymore, but maybe it would be a good habit to pick back up.“Peggy always had a smoke after sex, so once my lungs were good I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.Not sure I really enjoyed it the way she did, but it was kinda nice to lay there in bed ’n have a smoke ’n talk strategy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and leaned back into Steve.Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky, holding him gently.They synced their breathing instinctively.

Steve hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if what he was about to say was a bad idea or not.He gave up trying to think as a bad job considering the situation.“Actually, Bucky, I think you look sexy when you’re smoking.‘Specially when you got your hair slicked back and your leather jacket on and those tight jeans I love so much.”

Bucky tried not to look pleased at this, but he failed miserably.“Ya think so?” was all he could say.Steve smiled at how cute he was.

“You know,” Steve confided, “I really love it when I kiss you and you taste like whiskey and cigarettes.‘Member when we were, oh, 24, 25, right before you shipped off to basic, and you realized I ain’t never been kissed before?”

“You remember that?” Bucky asked, surprised.“We were drunk off our asses, Stevie, you were so tiny it didn’t take much.”

“Yeah, that terrible whiskey.”Steve smiled as he remembered.“You tasted so good, Bucky.Like whiskey and cigarettes.Like home.Wish I knew then what that meant.”

Bucky grinned slyly, letting his cigarette tip out of his mouth.Steve knew he was taking advantage of his admission.“What’s it mean, doll?” he asked, slow and wicked.

Steve laughed, smoke rising from his mouth.“It means I love ya, ya jerk,” he said fondly, gazing at Bucky.Bucky was looking slightly put-out that Steve had laughed at him.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky mumbled.“I really just wanted an excuse to kiss you,” he admitted.“I guess I was just drunk enough to pull it off.”He nestled himself deeper into Steve.It made Steve feel like he was overflowing with happiness once again.

Steve didn’t want the moment to end.He and Bucky finished their cigarettes.Bucky wordlessly stubbed them out on the ashtray before grabbing another one for himself.He offered a second one to Steve, which he accepted.Bucky was usually a one-a-day smoker, so the fact that he was essentially chain smoking this morning indicated to Steve that he’d been really worked up about his intervention.Bucky held the lighter flame between them and they both leaned into it, lighting at the same time.Steve rested his head against Bucky’s and they continued to smoke in sync, their chests and stomachs rising and falling in unison, blissfully immersed in their own little world.


	16. The Bagman's Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Steve's fuck buddy ends things as a professional courtesy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter with angst. Things get pretty fluffy from hereon out.
> 
> Chapter title from "The Bagman's Gambit" by the Decemberists.

Steve checked his burner phone the moment he got back to New York.S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping him in D.C. for longer and longer periods of time now, which was frustrating.He felt more as though he was under surveillance when he was in D.C. than he did in New York.Sometimes, he suspected that was why they scheduled him the way they did.

He had a notification from Jim.His heart skipped a beat as he read the short text: **can we talk?** Good things rarely followed those three little words.

Steve stared at his phone a moment before responding.He finally decided on asking, **My place in 30?**

The response only took a minute: **c u soon**.Steve didn’t even bother unpacking.He went straight for the shower.

Steve emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, which he dropped in surprise.Jim was already there, sitting in his living room.“How did you get in?” Steve asked, a little more surprised and accusatory than he meant to sound.

Jim blushed.“If I told you that I never said what line of work I was in because I can’t talk about it, would that answer your question?”

Steve’s lips thinned.He gave Jim a curt nod.Of course his no-strings-attached fuck buddy would be CIA or S.H.I.E.L.D. or FBI or whatever the hell he was.It was just Steve’s luck.

“That’s part of why I’m here, actually,” Jim said.“My personal and professional lives are beginning to cross.There are a lot of people out there interested in you, Steve, and not all of them have your wellbeing at heart.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asked.His heart sank.

“I’m saying that continuing this arrangement is going to be impossible,” Jim said.“It’s been fun, but it’s over.Consider this a professional curtesy.”

Steve frowned.“Quit your job.Join S.H.I.E.L.D.I can get you a new job.”

“Oh Steve,” Jim laughed sadly.“You don’t really know how to just fuck, do you.”

“I’m serious, Jim—“

“I’m serious too, Steve.The day is coming where we’re going to be on opposite sides of government policy.I don’t want either of us compromised when that day comes.Like I said, professional courtesy.”

Jim got up to leave.“Wait,” Steve said.“How can you- how do you-“

“Do this?” Jim finished wryly.“I believe a friend of yours once said it best: ‘Regimes fall every day.I tend not to weep over that, I’m Russian.Or was.’”With that he walked out the door, leaving Steve to wonder just how Jim knew what Natasha had said when she interrogated Loki.

The day when Jim and Steve were on opposite sides of government policy came sooner than Steve had expected.Steve watched as the Winter Soldier barked orders in Russian, directing Jim to go after him. Natasha, however, intercepted.Steve had a brief moment where he could see what was going on as the two met in battle.Steve saw them nod at each other, almost imperceptibly, before his attention was turned elsewhere.Gunshots were ringing out from every direction.A few minutes later, Steve ran past where Jim’s body lay in the street.Natasha was fighting the Winter Soldier now. Steve shut his eyes for just a fraction of a second.So this was why.

Steve drew the Winter Soldier away from Natasha.The Asset was skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as sniping; Steve found him more than a match.As they wrestled over the soldier’s knife his mask came loose.He bounced back quickly and turned to face Steve, murder in his eyes; eyes that Steve knew as well as his own.“Bucky?” Steve gasped, hardly daring to believe.

“Who the hell is Bucky,” Bucky rasped.A moment later he was gone.


	17. I Don't Mind if I Gotta Start All Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes home from therapy and Bucky asks how it went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another short little chapter. A bit of plot, a bit of domestic.
> 
> Chapter title from "Nomad" by Jeremy Renner.

Steve could smell sauteeing onions before he even opened the door.He smiled to himself.Bucky had decided that a good way to keep his knife skills sharp was by improving his cooking skills.As Steve walked through the door Bucky looked up from the peppers he was cutting and smiled.Steve smiled back, despite his exhaustion.Bucky looked good.His hair was pulled back in a half-bun and his stubble was reaching neat beard status.He wore a dark gray long sleeved shirt pushed up to the elbows and track pants.

“Hey doll, how was therapy?” Bucky asked, a little too casually.Steve knew Bucky was afraid that Steve would get frustrated and quit like he’d done before.Steve had already considered it several times, but the thought of Bucky’s face at the news kept him going.He had promised to do this for Bucky.Steve didn’t want to break any more promises.

“It was good,” Steve said, kicking off his shoes and going over to collapse on the couch.“Exhausting, though, as usual.” he added.

Bucky nodded knowingly.“What’d ya talk about with Jordan today?” he asked.“If you’re up for talking about it,” he reminded Steve.“I didn’t tell you everything we covered, I don’t expect you to tell me everything.”

Steve nodded and lay on the couch in silence for a moment.He heard the peppers sizzle as they hit the hot pan.The scent of cumin, cayenne, and chili hit his nostrils a few moments later.He inhaled deeply and smiled again.“We talked about my childhood today,” Steve told Bucky.

“Yeah?” Bucky said casually.Steve could tell he wanted to know more.

“Yeah,” Steve said.“We talked about how Ma ‘n I always took care of each other, even when I was a kid.I always felt like I had to be brave for her, ya know, so she wouldn’t be upset, what with raisin’ me alone and me bein’ so sickly.”Something hit the counter with a wet thud.Steve looked up to see that Bucky had dropped a ziplock bag holding steak and marinade and was running towards him.Steve had about two seconds preparation before Bucky’s full weight was on him and Bucky was clinging to him with all four limbs.

“You always been too busy takin’ care of others ta take care of yourself, ya little punk,” Bucky said.His voice was muffled by Steve’s shoulders.

“Yeah well, least now I know,” said Steve, whose voice was muffled by the couch cushions.

“You didn’t realize that before?” Bucky asked, sitting back onto his feet.Steve shifted so that he could see up to Bucky’s face.“I mean, I didn’t know that about your ma, but geez.”

Steve shrugged.“Guess I was just used to it,” he said.“Anyway, we talked about the importance of doin’ stuff just for me.Just ‘cause I wanna do it.Not ‘cause I wanna share it, or ‘cause it’ll make someone else happy.Just for me.”

Bucky nodded.“I like that.”Then he sniffed.“The fajitas!”Bucky jumped up and raced to the kitchen.Steve sniffed himself and realized that Bucky was just in time to keep the onions and peppers from burning.He sat up and watched as Bucky transferred the vegetables to a plate and began to sear the steak.“Medium rare, right, Steve?” Bucky called from where he stood in front of the stove.

“Medium rare,” Steve confirmed.He decided not to tell Bucky about the part where they talked about how his relationship with his ma had influenced the way he formed relationships with others, including Bucky.How his need to put on a brave face for his ma had meant that Steve had learned not to appear “weak” to anyone.

“Ya know,” mused Steve, thinking aloud now, “I’m really glad I had my ma to teach me ‘bout strength ’n bravery ’n stuff.‘Magine if I’d learned from, say, Danny Black’s da.”

Bucky shuddered.“That man deserved prison if anyone did.Treatin’ your own kids like that!An’ his poor wife!”He flipped the steak angrily, then softened a bit.“I’m glad I learned from your ma, too.I mean, my ma and pop, they were good people, but your ma was somethin’ special.”

Steve smiled at the memory of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.“Your pop was the closest thing to a da I had,” he told Bucky.“I know he never had much to do with me, on account of me bein’ horrible at sports an’ that bein’ all he knew, but I still appreciated it.An’ your ma, always feedin’ me.”

“Speakin’ of feedin’ ya,” Bucky said, smiling, “Fajitas’r ready.”Steve’s stomach rumbled.Recovery was long, hard, exhausting work.Some days Steve felt as though it would be easier to just give up and go back to old habits.With Bucky at his six, though— well, Steve knew he could make it through just about anything with Bucky there.He smiled and walked to the kitchen to serve himself dinner.


	18. To the Place I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has an idea. Bucky hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 100% tooth-rotting fluff and feels. Enjoy it as your reward for getting through the rough stuff!
> 
> Chapter title is from "Country Roads Take Me Home" by John Denver.

One day in spring Steve came back from his therapy session with an arm full of groceries and a shit-eating grin on his face.Bucky eyed him warily.“What’s this, punk?” he asked.Steve grinned wider as he started to pull carton after carton of eggs out of a grocery sack.“Didja find Jesus again and decide ya wanted an Easter egg hunt?”

“ _Not_ Jesus,” Steve corrected, now pulling boxes of matzoh out of the other grocery bag.“Although I think Becca would be flattered by the comparison.”

“The hell you talkin’ to my sister for, I thought you went to therapy,” Bucky said skeptically, picking up a box of matzoh and reading the label that indicated it was suitable for Seder.

“I did,” Steve replied.“We were talkin’ ‘bout how I isolate myself insteada facin’ stuff, ‘n Jordan asked me when I really started consciously doin’ it, and I realized it was about the time my ma died and I stopped goin’ to your family stuff.So we talked about doin’ somethin’ opposite of isolating, and Jordan and I thought doin’ a Barnes Family Seder here at the tower sounded real nice.So I texted Becca when I got done, and…” Steve’s phone dinged.“Ah!Tony says we’re more’n welcome to take over the large meeting room.I’ll text Becca and let her know we’re capped at… 250 people?Nah, let’s say 100 instead.”

“Steve,” Bucky gasped in horror.“Do you know what you’ve _done_?”

Steve was still reading texts on his phone.“Oh good, Clint says he’d be more’n happy to roast all the lamb we need!Oooh, and Nat says she knows a guy in Tel Aviv who owes her a favor, so she’ll get us some actually decent kosher wine…”

Bucky’s own phone started going off.“Oh _no_ ,” he groaned.“Parker just texted me.His Aunt May’s apparently one of Becca’s granddaughters’s sisters-in-law.He’s asking me if I’m really Uncle Jimmy the Cryptid.”Steve howled with laughter.“Don’t you dare,” Bucky growled as Steve held up his phone for a picture and then started typing.He started towards Steve to grab the phone, but by the time he managed to wrestle it out of Steve’s hands it was too late.Steve had sent a blurry picture to the Avengers group chat with the caption ‘Uncle Jimmy the Cryptid sighting!’“Steve,” Bucky whined, “ _Why_ did you have to organize an impromptu Barnes family reunion?You know I don’t talk to anyone but Becca!”

“Well, they’re family,” Steve replied.

“Yeah, _my_ family,” Bucky said with exasperation.

“And mine,” Steve added quietly.He was looking subdued now.“You’re the only family I got left, pal.”

Bucky threw his hands up in a perfect imitation of his ma, causing the corners of Steve’s mouth to quirk up despite himself.“On your own head be it,” Bucky said, exasperated.

“You’re like an old married couple,” Sam said as he rose from where he’d been lying on the couch, startling Steve.He hadn’t been able to see Sam from where he was standing in the kitchen.

“We’re not married,” Bucky said, glaring at Steve.He crossed his arms.

“We’re kinda married,” Steve told Bucky, looking a little apologetic.Bucky just huffed with his arms crossed.“Speaking of which, babe, is dinner ready?”Steve started sniffing the air hopefully.

Bucky immediately softened.“I was just gonna reheat the liver and onions and add a salad, that alright with you?” he asked as he moved towards the fridge.

They moved in tandem as Steve gave Bucky space and enthusiastically replied, “Sounds great!”

“You guys are _so_ married,” Sam said, grinning.

“Shaddup or I’m gonna force feed you liver ’n onions,” Bucky growled, waving a serving spoon towards Sam.

“Don’t talk about my ma’s recipe like that!” Steve gasped in mock-horror.He had come to realize that he and Bucky might be the last two people on earth who liked that dish, and had sensibly decided that it just meant more for them.

“… and on that note, I’m going to leave before I have to smell it.Sorry, Steve,” Sam added apologetically.

“All the more for us,” Bucky quipped.

Steve was glad he’d told Becca a lower capacity than the meeting room actually held.Becca’s husband, a Polish Jew who had immigrated to America after being released from a concentration camp, was long dead.He and Becca had had three children, who in turn had had three children each.Not only were all the children and grandchildren married, but the oldest great-grandchildren were of an age to be bringing significant others as well (and one great-great-grandbaby.)Once the honorary aunties and uncles, close family friends, and a few people from the synagogue with nowhere else to go were included, plus the Avengers, the total easily exceeded one hundred people who rarely got to be in the same room all at once.

“Thank you for this,” Becca said, smiling at Steve.She was old and frail now, but her mind was still sharp as a tack.Steve smiled down at her and placed his hand over hers where it rested on the arm of her wheelchair.“I know you weren’t much for this sort of thing, but it means a lot for us to get the family together.”

Steve’s smile dimmed a bit.“I was young and angry,” he told Becca.

“Weren’t we all,” Becca said drily.“You were just always more of an idiot about it.”Steve laughed bitterly.

They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the scene.Everyone had arrived early in order to socialize before the Seder properly began.Tony, Peter, Bruce, and a few others were all talking earnestly in a circle.Pepper and Natasha were laughing at something one of the older women had said as they fussed over the food and opened bottles of wine.Clint was busy being awestruck by the great-great-grandbaby, who had decided he was the best napping option in the room.Peter’s Aunt May and Sam were deep in conversation.Bucky was surrounded by a gaggle of children who were taking it by turns to braid his hair, climb all over him, and giggle every time he growled.He had a scowl on his face, but his eyes were soft and happy.Bucky caught Steve’s eye and deepened his scowl, but his eyes betrayed how much he was enjoying himself.Steve couldn’t help but grin back.

“He’s doing a lot better,” Becca said softly.Steve nodded.“Come to that, so are you,” Becca pointed out.Steve looked at her in surprise.She simply shrugged.“I knew you before.When I heard you were back from the news and not from you- well, I knew something was wrong.You always wrote us, even if you didn’t write Jimmy.”She laughed.“His first letter after you got him out of Azzano was a rant about what an idiot you were, did you know that?”

Steve snorted.“Doesn’t surprise me.What was I ‘sposed to do, write and tell him?He wouldn’t’ve believed me.”

Becca smiled wryly.“His first letter from this century was almost identical.‘Hey Becks, guess I was brainwashed and killed a whole bunch of people, by the way Steve’s an idiot.’”

Steve laughed.“Yep, that’s Bucky.”He smiled fondly over at Bucky and his gaggle of nieces and nephews.Becca’s expression became smug as she watched Steve.

“I’m glad to see you two finally got your heads outta your asses,” Becca told him.

Steve jumped with surprise and guilt.“It’s obvious?” he asked.“It’s just— we’re not really ready to go public yet.Pepper’s been going slow on all the paperwork to even make him a fully legal person again, just because it’s gonna be media hell when the news gets out.Imagine the headlines if word gets out that Captain America is dating the Winter Soldier before Bucky even gets to make his own public identity.”

Becca nodded slowly.“He’s Uncle Jimmy here.The older folks know who he was, but the kids don’t care.No one will talk.And if they do, well, they’ll have to deal with me.”Steve grinned.Becca had always been a spitfire.She and Steve were a lot alike.

“How long have you known?” Steve asked, curious.

Becca thought for a minute.“I’m not sure,” she said slowly.“I was so much younger than you boys, you know.You were just always there, Steve, and Jimmy just always looked at you like the sun shone outta your ass- but only when he thought no one was looking, you know?”She smiled sadly as she remembered back.“I asked him ‘bout it, once— ‘Jimmy, why d’you look at Steve the way Pops looks at Ma?’— and he just told me to shut up and never talk about it again.He looked so scared that for once, I did.”

They fell into companionable silence, watching as Bucky rose up from the floor with a roar and began chasing small, giggling children.He caught one and began to tickle her, causing her to shriek with glee.The other children used their compatriot’s suffering as an opportunity to tackle Bucky to the ground and dog pile him.Victorious whoops and yells mingled with a loud, deep, throaty laugh.Heads turned slightly and the conversational hum dimmed as soft smiles spread slowly throughout the room.Tears welled up in Becca’s eyes.“I haven’t heard that laugh since 1942,” she whispered.

Steve squeezed her hand gently.“Neither have I,” he told her softly.

“Steve, help me!” Bucky called through the mass of children.

“You’d better go,” Becca said as a tear rolled down her withered cheek.“I need to make sure everything’s ready for us to start anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve teased gently.“Coming, babe!” he called absently to Bucky over the din.Steve gave Becca’s hand one last squeeze before wheeling her over to where Nat and Pepper stood over.Then he bounded over to Bucky and carefully lowered himself onto the dog pile with a roar, causing a chorus of delighted shrieks and giggles.“Tickle him!” Steve ordered, grinning down at Bucky, who squirmed and began to let out high-pitched shrieks of his own as the children obeyed.

“Forget me, get Steve!” Bucky wheezed, out of breath from the assault.He was grinning back at Steve.

“Noooo!” Steve gasped in mock horror.The children eyed him gleefully, which Steve took as his cue to run away in slow motion.He was soon overtaken and made a careful, dramatic showing of falling to the floor and being captured.A child sat down on his shoulders and began to braid Steve’s hair— it had gotten down almost to his shoulders— while others rummaged through his pockets, stealing Steve’s phone and some candies he had put in specifically for small children.Bucky stood over him with his hands on hips, looking happier than Steve had seen him since before the war— outside of sex or murdering Hydra operatives, that is.Steve grinned back, feeling exceptionally happy himself.

“Time to gather,” Pepper’s voice rang.She had developed a specific tone for cutting through chaos.It worked well.The children scrambled up and ran towards their parents. 

Bucky held his hand out to Steve to help him up.Steve took it.They both knew he didn’t need help now, but it was a nice excuse.Bucky held Steve’s hand tightly and swung it a little as they walked towards their places at the table.“Love you, punk,” Steve told Bucky quietly as their eyes met.

“Jerk,” Bucky choked out in a whisper.He was looking at Steve with so much love and tenderness that it was almost painful.

“Welcome to the 2015 Barnes-Rogers Family Seder!” Becca announced proudly from her seat at the head of the table.“Let’s begin by turning our booklets to page 1, shall we?”

Steve glanced around the table fondly, still holding Bucky’s hand.For the first time since 1936 he no longer felt like an orphan.


	19. Something So Wholesome About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Steve and Bucky wind down and head to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Porn. Cuddles. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this fic. It was the longest and hardest one to write so far. Honestly, I'm kind of sad it's over...
> 
> Chapter title from "From Eden" by Hosier.

The gathering didn’t break up until well past midnight.“I can’t _believe_ I lost a bench-press contest to Parker,” Bucky growled as he and Steve made their way back to their apartment.“Fuckin’ spider genes.”

“Cosmic payback for when you got all the Howling Commandos to jump on my back when I was doing pushups,” Steve said with a smirk.“ _I_ can’t believe Sam suckered all your family recipes outta Becca,” he added, still in awe that Sam had accomplished in two hours what had taken Steve weeks to do.“She’s gotta have a crush on him,” Steve mused.

“Ooooh,” Bucky sang gleefully.“I’m gonna tell him!”Steve just laughed and elbowed Bucky in the ribs.Bucky unlocked their apartment and they entered, kicking off their shoes and making a beeline for the couch for some wind-down time.Bucky collapsed on one end of the couch with his book while Steve and his sketchbook took the other end, their legs intertwining in the middle.

After a time Bucky marked his place in his book, shut it, and stretched.Steve was concentrating intently on whatever he was drawing.“Whatcha workin’ on?” Bucky asked, curiously.

“Hm?” Steve looked up, a bit bemused, blinking to refocus his eyes after the close work.“Oh,” he said, processing what Bucky had asked.He turned the sketchbook so that Bucky could see, simply adding, “This.”

The Bucky in Steve’s drawing was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-finished children.Two girls were braiding flowers into Bucky’s hair, which was already falling out in loose wisps in places.Bucky’s metal arm was held up and out as a small boy held on tightly, legs pulled up off the ground, testing to see if the prosthesis could hold the boy’s weight.Two slightly older children watched the feat of strength with awe.Another pair of children were using Bucky’s flesh arm as a race track for their toy cars.A young tot sat on Bucky’s knee, looking up into Bucky’s scowling face with glee.Despite the scowl on sketch-Bucky’s face, though, he didn’t look unhappy.Steve had managed to capture all the softness, adoration, love, and tenderness that had emanated from Bucky’s eyes that evening.

“Wow, Stevie,” Bucky said in a hushed, reverent tone.“You really think I look like that?”

“I _know_ you look like that,” Steve corrected.“You looked like that all evening.I wanted t’ draw it before it faded.”Steve set his sketchbook and pencil down and held open his arms.Bucky crawled into them and nuzzled his face against Steve’s.

“The kids,” Bucky said after a moment, realization dawning. “Those weren’t- they looked like _us_.”

Steve nodded and blushed.“I dunno, I just thought- I wondered what- well obviously, two guys, we’re never gonna have kids of our own- not biological anyway—“

“But you wanted to know what they’d look like,” Bucky finished for him, full of emotion.

“Yeah,” Steve said.“I draw them sometimes- just for me.Not to post or share or anything, just for me.”He was mindlessly caressing Bucky, smoothing his hair, pressing lightly in the places where he knew Bucky carried tension.

“Tonight wasn’t just for you, though,” Bucky pointed out.He was fully relaxed now; his head moved slightly with the movements of Steve’s hand.

“No, it wasn’t,” Steve admitted.“I needed to do it, but I thought you might need it too. It was your tradition, after all.And I thought it would do you good to see Becca and the kids…”Steve trailed off as he looked at Bucky fondly.

“One of the aunties asked me when we’re getting married,” Bucky asked, a little too casually.“I guess it’s been legal in New York for guys like us for a few years now.”

“Yeah?” Steve replied, also a little too casually.

“Guess we might think about it,” Bucky said.“Ya know, tax benefits.”

Steve snorted.“Yeah.Tax benefits.Buck, ya don’t even pay taxes.”

“Well, not yet,” Bucky said defensively.“But once Pepper finishes making me legally alive again I might have to.And you pay taxes,” he pointed out.

“Well that’s- that’s somethin’ to think about,” Steve said, reverting to the too-casual voice.

“Yeah, somethin’ to think about,” Bucky echoed.“Hey, wanna have sex before bed?”

Steve answered Bucky with a kiss, soft and deep.Bucky pressed into it as Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, holding him close.They traded kisses and caresses back and forth.Then Bucky started to shift his hips, almost imperceptibly grinding himself against Steve.It was enough to make Steve’s breath catch.“Bucky,” he breathed

“Bedroom?” Bucky asked softly.

“Yeah,” Steve answered.Bucky got off the couch and Steve followed, his hand in Bucky’s.They entered the bedroom and slowly began to undress each other, pausing to kiss and touch when desire struck.Once they were naked Steve took a step towards Bucky and rested his forehead against Bucky’s.He ran his hands down Bucky’s sides, ending at his hips, pulling them close.Still holding Bucky close with one hand, Steve ran the other over Bucky’s ass cheek.“May I?” he asked.

“Please,” Bucky replied with a shiver.Steve grabbed the lube and gently pushed Bucky back onto the bed, climbing on top of him.They kissed, slow and passionate, while Steve gently eased Bucky open and readied himself.Steve bent over Bucky, arms close against him, as he slowly eased himself in.They moaned in unison as Steve bottomed out.Bucky curled up to meet Steve’s lips as Steve gently began to thrust.Steve lay as low as he could against Bucky, doing his best to generate some friction against Bucky’s cock as he fucked him.He felt his pleasure rising, spreading, threatening to overwhelm him.

“I want you to come when I do,” Steve told Bucky, low and soft.Bucky began to masturbate in time to Steve’s thrusts, which had increased in pace.

“I’m ready,” Bucky rasped.Steve gave a final deep thrust and let himself fill Bucky, just as Bucky cried out and covered himself and Steve in cum.They kissed for a while, both unwilling to move, until the drying semen in their body hair began to get itchy.They walked to the shower arm in arm and cleaned each other, slowly and carefully.After drying each other off they made their way back to the bed, where they slipped naked under the sheets.

“You’ve come a long way from the guy who begged me to hurt him during sex,” Bucky told Steve, holding him gently.

“I still hurt myself sometimes,” Steve admitted sadly.“But it’s less often now.I’m trying.”

“I know you are, doll,” Bucky told him.“You’re doin’ real good, too.”

“You really think so?” Steve asked hopefully.His eyes silently begged Bucky for his approval.

“Yeah, Stevie, I do,” Bucky said.“It’s about habits, right?You been doin’ some of this stuff for three, ten years even.You ain’t gonna undo it all in a week, even with our healing factor.”

A wave of sleep hit Steve, causing him to yawn.“I dunno, Buck,” he said, curling up to Bucky the way he had during sleepovers and in their shared apartment.His spine formed an almost perfect c, which Bucky instinctively curled around protectively.“We sure got into this habit pretty quick.”Steve wiggled his ass up against Bucky’s groin.

Bucky laughed sleepily, having caught Steve’s yawn.“We sure did, punk,” he said.“We sure did.”

“Jerk,” murmured Steve.He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
